


Moments of Clarity

by akionna



Category: Dark Angel
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-11-22 04:00:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 57,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11372133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akionna/pseuds/akionna
Summary: Away from Seattle, Max and Alec learn to trust each other—and love each other—despite the constant bickering and accidental mayhem.  But on their journey home, their love begins to fracture, slowly pushing them apart.When everything comes to a head, Max and Alec choose different paths.  Can they find their way back to each other?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Post season 2. Some wonderful authors have written love stories for Max and Alec. This is my small contribution.
> 
>  ***** Thank you to my beta Stacy—honest, annoying, and real. She waited patiently **for years** —for me to write my first story. ~ The world is a better place with you in it.
> 
>  ***** For my Tuesday girl Sela. Sweet, sharp, goofy—and unconditional. ~ Love you.
> 
>  ***** Check out the gorgeous art from Emmatheslayer. ~ I love it! Thank you Emily!
> 
> [ Moments of Clarity by Emmatheslayer](https://emmatheslayer.livejournal.com/459916.html)

Prologue 

Alec stood still, deep in the shadows, watching Logan walk toward the tunnels alone. He carried a backpack and a small plastic cooler. It was late at night, the best time to sneak out of Terminal City, which made no sense at all—because Logan had no reason to sneak out.

He frowned, scanning the area, wondering where Max was, wondering where anyone was. Max had assigned Logan an escort, and it was a running joke as to who would be stuck with him that day.

He studied Logan, eyeing the backpack and cooler. He probably had his laptop in the backpack, but the cooler? Now, that was a mystery. It wasn’t like he had ice cream in there. In fact, the cooler looked familiar—just like the one they used in the clinic. 

He turned his gaze to the sentry guards posted at the perimeter. Both of them were practically invisible, so good they were at blending in. And both of them were watching Logan, but neither moved to approach him. Which meant that they were aware of his departure. Which also meant that Max had notified them ahead of time.

_Interesting._  
  
Original Cindy had left a month before, and Max had walked her to the tunnels herself. Her eyes had been red from crying, but she’d been calm when they hugged and said goodbye. Granted, Max had been reluctant to let go, but she’d done it. Afterward, she’d gone straight to her apartment without talking to anyone.

He had watched her walk away, knowing that she wanted privacy, knowing that he’d show up anyway. He knew that Max liked to appear tough, but he also knew that Max was hurting. And even if she really wanted to be alone, he also knew that she was lonely. And now Cindy was gone.

So when Alec knocked on her door that day, he knew she wouldn’t answer. He also knew that she wouldn’t stop him from entering. He thought maybe she would yell at him or throw something, but she did neither.

She was on the floor, her knees drawn up, her face buried in her arms, her entire body shuddering with quiet sobs. He made a lot of noise, just so he wouldn’t startle her, just so she’d know that he was there.

She didn’t even look at him.

Still, he sat on the floor next to her. And gently, he drew her body close, waiting for her to push him away.

She did not.

Instead, she had turned her face into his shoulder, settling in without question. For a long time, he stayed like that, his arms cradling her, his cheek resting on top of her hair.

And when her sobs finally subsided, he remained quiet. Something had shifted between them that day. She had accepted his presence openly, as if she needed him, as if she wanted him there. As if she was done pushing him away.

She had lifted her eyes at him, distraught and exhausted, but she’d held his gaze. “Are you going to leave me Alec?”

“Never.” And he meant it. He didn’t know what his life would be like without her. But he also needed to know it wasn’t just him. “What about you, Max?”

He remembered that she had hiccupped and squeezed his hand. “You’re stuck with me.” And she had smiled. Her face was splotchy from tears, her eyes red, her nose a bit runny—but damn if she didn’t look beautiful to him.

They had never talked about that day again.

But Max had found her balance, settling in as their leader. She still had a temper, she still fought with him, she even made faces and rolled her eyes at him—but—Max seemed less angry. Any kind of conflict, she went to him first—and if she had to have a meltdown, only Alec was privy to it. Everyone teased that he was her personal punching bag, and maybe it was true—but he didn’t care. Because no one else got what he did. That sheepish little grin—when she realized that she had gone overboard, yet again. Then he’d make some ridiculous comment, and she would punch him—but he’d only pull her into a hug, reaffirming that they still had each other, even if they drove each other crazy.

And as Max let him into her life more, she spent less time with Logan. And the day she stopped wearing latex gloves, Alec knew she had reached some turning point.

He didn’t ask about it, and she didn’t volunteer.

As for Logan, he said nothing. He was busy working the computers, running searches across multiple databases, coming up with leads for them. He was still passionate about helping out where he could, when he could.

So this turn of events—it was surprising. Logan had been their biggest supporter. His entire mission in life was to right the wrongs. He even gave up the family fortune because of it. But he would never give up on Max. He’d stake his life on it.

And if he was leaving Terminal City, then Max had asked him to go. No, more likely, Max had told him to. There was no way that Logan would agree to it—so Max had kicked him out after he had tried to convince her otherwise.

He watched Logan disappear into the tunnel, thinking he should follow him out, just to have a chat. Then, just as quickly, he dismissed the idea, knowing he’d rather be with Max instead. He jumped off his perch, and landed lightly on the dirt. Saluting to the guards, he jogged inside the compound, curious to see if Max would tell him, if she would say anything at all.


	2. Blood

Chapter 1 – Blood 

The blood dripped slowly, landing in the small glass bowl. Max flexed her fingers and squeezed her fist, counting the drops until she reached 10. It was overkill really. She only needed a few drops to watch the reaction, maybe even just one drop, if she was being honest with herself.

But Max was never good at being honest. She was entirely too good at pretending and avoiding the truth.

So she watched her blood swallow up the existing sample already in the bowl. She counted, out loud, just to prove that she really was watching it happen. Just to hear her voice, just to know the reality unfolding in front of her.

Every week she did this, and every week, her numbers increased. It was taking longer and longer for her blood to win. Frankly, she wasn’t even sure her blood was winning anymore. For that, she should have been feeling relief. She should have been feeling joy.

Instead, all she felt was dread. It was mind-numbing.

She stopped counting when she heard the static on the receiver. She closed her eyes, listening to Mole as his voice faded in and out.

“Alec is late.”

* * *

Mole watched Max hold onto control, but just barely. She was about ready to snap, and because Alec wasn’t around to bear the brunt of it, he knew it would land on him instead.

“I just noticed his tracker, here.” Mole pointed to the green dot on the screen. “It’s outside city limits, and it hasn’t moved in over 24 hours.” He scanned the coordinates, doing rough calculations in his head. “That’s the old factory near Sector 12, where the industrial area used to be. Nothing much left there, except maybe an empty warehouse—but that’s some miles out. Don’t even know if it’s still there.”

He eyed Max warily. Blood was oozing out of the makeshift bandage on her hand. He never understood why it was always the same hand, and always on Sunday afternoon. Not that he would ask, and not that she would tell.

The sudden crash had everyone spinning in her direction. The new hole in the drywall surprised no one. Mole knew that Max was livid. She had her back to all of them. And when she carefully pulled her hand out of the wall, no one said anything.

The next words would come from Max, and it wasn’t going to be pretty.

* * *

“You needed to say something yesterday.” Max held her temper in check. She was angry that she punched a hole in the wall, and with her messed up hand too. The flimsy bandage was about to slide off in protest.

She knew Mole would shrug her off. So she forced her arm out of the wall, deliberately staring at the cracked paint, just so she didn’t accidentally launch herself at Mole and choke the life out of him.

Everyone would think that she was overreacting. But she knew. That feeling of dread from moments ago—that had only blossomed into full-blown panic. She had been feeling off all day, worried that Alec hadn’t returned her calls, worried that her weekly experiment was a success, worried that her instincts were right.

She really wanted her instincts to be wrong.

And even as her mind rebelled against the idea, she spoke the words out loud.

“24 hours is too long for Alec to be with White.”

* * *

The room erupted in chaos, everyone talking over each other, and no one communicating at all. Max was gripping the chair in front of her, and Mole wasn’t sure if she was about to throw it at him. He wasn’t sure why she would say something so far off base.

Placing two fingers in his mouth, he whistled loudly, effectively shutting everyone up.

“We don’t know that’s true. I hope to hell it ain’t true.”

Mole stared at Max, challenging her, as he always did, wanting her to prove her leadership skills, over and over again.

Max released her death grip on the chair, for which he was grateful, but her stubborn silence wasn’t helping. He waited, counting the seconds, knowing that she was about to lose her temper.

As the silence continued, Mole realized that Max was also counting. She was going to keep her cool, even if it killed her. He had to admire that really, even reluctantly.

* * *

“I saw him yesterday, Saturday morning. We have plans to watch a movie tonight, after his shift. I have the popcorn and everything. It took him two months to get that DVD and he was so excited for it—“ Max’s voice drifted off.

“That was 0600.” Max blinked and shook her head. “And I thought it was weird because he never wakes up before noon, right? He likes to sleep in, especially on his day off.”

“I tried to stop him, but he was already on his bike, and he promised to be back early.” Her gaze swung to Mole. “He said something about an errand and that you knew about it?”

She waited for him to answer. “Did you?”

* * *

Mole shrugged. “He went to meet Logan. He didn’t say much, and I didn’t ask. I don’t much care for ordinaries in general, and yeah, not that one in particular.”

He took a puff from his cigar, enjoying the smell, knowing that just about everyone hated it.

“I never understood what you saw in that one. But you and Alec seemed to like the guy, so I let it go.”

He picked up his favorite rifle and stroked the barrel.

“But his last few months here, he was getting twitchy. I kept him out of command, even though you said he had full access.”

He had just admitted to defying a direct order from Max. Carefully, he put down the rifle, wondering how Max would react. She was known to hold grudges.

“I thought for sure you’d say something to me, but you didn’t. Then you kicked his ass out the next day, so I pretty much forgot about him.”

He crossed his arms in front of him, staring at Max, refusing to back down.

“That’s all I got. Alec can take Logan no problem. I saw no reason to worry.”

Then, just to annoy her, Mole drew in a thick puff of smoke—and blew out a perfect ring.

“What are you so worried about?”

* * *

Max stared at Mole in disbelief, wondering how he could be so casual with his words. He assumed too much, and all of the assumptions were wrong. 

She raised her hand, slowly uncurling a finger as she made each point.

“One—0600. Alec is never up that early without a reason—a good reason. And we both agree, Logan is not a good enough reason. Neither of us are doing jobs for him. We have enough to worry about taking care of our own people.”

She took a deep breath, eyeing Mole and no one else. “Two. Alec has been trying to get me alone for months. I finally agree, and he blows me off?”

“Three. And this is important. Alec doesn’t blow me off. In fact, he doesn’t blow anyone off. Ever since we moved into this toxic dump, he has been spectacular. He shows up. From last minute tactical meetings to poorly planned birthday parties. He shows up.”

And suddenly Max was in front of Mole, poking her finger into his chest.

“You’re smart Mole. You know if anyone here went missing for more than 10 minutes, he’d send out a search party. Alec has been gone over 24 hours. He never checked in.” She waved her arm at the monitor. “His bike is stuck in the middle of wherever, and you’re not worried?”

Then Max dropped her hand and stepped back. “Just because he can beat the crap out of anyone doesn’t mean he should be out there alone. We can’t afford to lose anyone. We can’t afford to lose Alec.”

* * *

Mole took a deep breath and shook his head. “No.”

He watched the wildness in Max still, the light going out of her eyes. It was silent for a long moment. And when he was certain that she would finally give into her foul temper, she did not.

Instead, she shut down. Any kind of worry or panic or anger disappeared from her eyes. It was like she never spoke, never tried to convince the entire room to rescue Alec.

His eyes narrowed when she slowly approached him, entirely too calm.

What was she going to do now?

* * *

Max spun around slowly, eyeing each transgenic and transhuman alike. “You all agree with him? That I’m crazy? That we leave Alec out there?”

And the silence was painful. No one met her stare.

She would think about those implications later. She was too volatile right now—even she knew that.

So she turned back to Mole.

“You’re refusing me? After everything Alec has done for us? You won’t help me get him back?”

He scoffed, dismissing her immediately. “You’re overreacting. Alec will come back.”

Max looked him up and down, eyes flickering in contempt.

“Then congratulations, you have been promoted to fearless leader. I am done here.”

Max walked out without looking back.

* * *

As soon as the door clicked shut, voices erupted in chaos, confusion loud and clear.

“She’s right. Something is wrong. We need to find Alec!”

“Why did you let her go like that?”

“What’s wrong with you?”

Mole grunted and ignored everyone. “Dix, map the quickest route to those coordinates. Have the back up team ready in five. Give Max a head start. We’ll meet her there. And if she’s wrong, we’ll have enough time to pull out.”

“What the f—“

“You’re making no sense.”

“Shut up! Just do it.” Mole roared in frustration, accidentally dropping his cigar. He watched it fizzle on the floor. That was his last cigar. He let out a string of curses.

“Alec is going to kill me.”

* * *

Max crawled to the top of the hill overlooking the parking lot. There, in the middle of the faded white lines and torn up concrete, stood Alec’s bike. It was out in the open. No other vehicles were nearby. And it was a good distance from the old factory building. 

She stared at the building, something nagging at her. Why were so many guards outside? White usually left the outside empty, and had the guards patrolling inside. Any outside guards were hidden on rooftops.

She blinked. Where were the other rooftops? Where would the snipers be? The trees were too far away, and sparse at that.

It was just the one lone building and the bike in the middle of the parking lot.

It was too easy.

Too staged.

Her gaze swung back to the bike, doubt already creeping in. 

Why would he park so far? Wouldn’t he hide his bike? If anything, she knew how much he loved that bike, even with its awful green color. He would, at the very least, protect his bike, so that no one would find it and vandalize it. 

She surveyed the area surrounding the parking lot. There wasn’t much cover actually. Vegetation was scarce. No trees or random greenery really.

There was nowhere to hide his ride. Which meant only one thing.

This entire thing was a diversion.

Her gaze swung to the old factory. She saw the guards smoking near the entrance. She even caught the subtle movements in the windows. But her gut was telling her to leave.

Alec wasn’t here.

She had to go. It was a risk, a huge one—but when it came to Alec, her actions never made sense. She only knew that if she didn’t move now, it would be too late. Alec was waiting for her, and she couldn’t watch his empty bike any longer.

* * *

“What do you mean she’s not there!” Mole shoved a table out of his way. “You see the guards—and Alec’s bike? But not Max?” 

Mole punched the closest thing to him. Unfortunately, it was the wall near the door—the same wall that Max punched earlier. And Mole was stronger, so he managed to punch through the wall—and startle Dix on the other side.

He grunted as he pulled out his hand. But Dix could have sworn he heard the words, “He’s going to kill me twice.”

* * *

Max approached the fence cautiously, knowing that she could be wrong, that maybe Alec wasn’t at the abandoned warehouse. But it was by the harbor, and only a few miles away from the old factory, plus it had multiple access points. So if the old factory with Alec’s bike was a trap, then she knew that White would want to be close by, but not too close. He’d be able to monitor the action, but not get caught in the crossfire.

Max shook her head, clearing her thoughts, focusing on the immediate area. The chain link fence surrounded the warehouse and other tall buildings, equally neglected. She looked up, squinting against the sunlight, counting the rooftops, considering the best angle for snipers. Then she looked down, spotting a break in the fence line, knowing she would fit, already squeezing through.

Dusting her knees, she stood up carefully, scanning the grounds, listening for footfalls, for any sound at all.

This setup made more sense to her. White would have the welcoming party inside, waiting for her. They would cover all the exits. The ground floor would be too easy, so any prisoner would be on the second floor. She eyed the windows. She could make the leap, but which window?

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and let her senses take over. She couldn’t see anything, but she heard shuffling inside. Most of the activity was happening toward the front, behind the big steel doors.

She blurred to the back of the building. It was quiet here. She counted three government sedans, all of them sleek, black, and boring—except for one decrepit minivan-type vehicle. She looked up and around. No trees and no other buildings were visible. So no one had a clear shot of her.

She hoped.

Quickly, she slashed tires on all the vehicles, working methodically with her knife, listening to the air hiss out. And when she approached the last vehicle, the seriously ugly and dirty one, she had already punched her knife into the rubber before she realized it.

Her mind was fighting her, even as her memories kicked in.

She saw, but she still tried to blink it away.

There it was, the unmistakable dent on the driver’s side, from when she swiped the telephone pole. The side mirror, just barely hanging on, from the car chase through Seattle months ago. And finally, the mess of duct tape and plastic pretending to be a small rear window. 

Trembling, she removed the knife and stepped back.

_What was Bessie doing here?  
_

* * *

“Report!” White barked into his phone. “What do you mean, nothing? 494 has been gone almost 32 hours! Are you telling me no one noticed?” He rubbed his temples. “His bike is still in the parking lot?”

White slammed his phone shut, muttering about Manticore mutants, and started pacing. He stopped abruptly and pulled out his receiver. “You have eyes on 494? Confirm now!”

A disembodied voice called out. “Yes, sir. 494 still unconscious. All quiet here. No sign of 452, or anyone for that matter. The men are getting restless, sir.”

“Well then. If nothing happens soon, I’m going to end 494 myself. Maybe I’ll just bomb their damn city and call it a day.” White snarled and threw the receiver across the room. Where the hell was the rescue expedition for 494? Didn’t those animals even know that one of their own was missing? Just how stupid were they?

* * *

Max clung to the window ledge by her fingertips. She had misjudged the distance, barely making it to the open window. As it was, she was just hanging on, hoping that no one was on the other side, prepared to ambush her.

Carefully, she pulled herself up and swung her leg over the windowsill, yanking her entire body through the small opening. She dropped to the floor, automatically rolling away from the window. She ended up behind some wooden crates. 

It was quiet.

She stood quickly, refusing to let the silence overpower her, refusing to lose focus.

_Just find Alec._

That was her only mission. She refused to think of anything else.

And when she heard gunshots—

She refused to think that Alec might be dead already.

* * *

“That was not satisfying at all.” White holstered his gun and strode away from the body. “I wanted 452 to see me do this. I wanted to watch her break.”

He waved carelessly to the other agents in the room. “Leave him. It’s a good look for him—all pathetic and bleeding out—and dead.”

* * *

As Max blurred to the next hallway, she caught sight of White leaving a room. The smell of gunpowder was strong on him. And as tempting as it was to follow him and beat his brains in, something else stopped her.

The scent of Alec’s blood.

Her first thought was to lash out, but she forced her mind to slow down, count the guards at the door, count the weapons on their bodies. She knew more guards would be inside. 

She had to decide. Would she fight her way into the room? Or go for the quick kills?

Alec had always made fun of her need to spare lives, especially the bad guys. It took too long, he said. And he was right. She could admit it now. She didn’t have the time to fight these guys, tie them up, then maybe, maybe find Alec and hope that he was alive.

 _There was nothing to decide._  
  
She let her mind shut down, and her instincts took over. She blurred as she threw the knife at the furthest guard. She didn’t even watch him clutch his chest in surprise. She had already sliced the other man’s carotid, his neck oozing blood. She pulled her knife out of the first guard, quickly severing his carotid as well. 

When she entered the room, she counted only two guards, both Familiars, but neither paying attention to her. Aiming at the guard closest to the window, she threw her knife, still bloody from the fresh kills, and jumped the other guard, legs wrapped around his torso, as she reached for his neck and snapped it clean. She heard movement, and watched the other guard stagger to his feet, his hand against the wall. She launched the short distance, slamming his head into the wall, the crack audible. She pushed off, not allowing her gaze to linger on the odd angle of his neck.

Four kills and not even 10 seconds had gone by.

Still it was 10 seconds too long. 

Because when Max finally allowed herself to look at Alec, her mind almost shattered.

There he was, his body, hanging from ceiling rafters, all bloody and broken.

And just below him, an obscene puddle of deep red, steadily growing on the floor.

That was Alec’s blood, and too much of it. If he wasn’t dead already, he would be soon.

She didn’t bother to take his pulse. He wasn’t allowed to die. She cut him down, grunting as she took the weight of his body.

Grimly, she hoisted him over her shoulder in a fireman’s carry. She staggered under his weight, fighting for balance, forcing her body to obey.

Then she frowned as she considered the logistics of it all.

Well, the front door was out of the question. She couldn’t battle White and his cronies with Alec draped all over her. She wouldn’t make it two steps.

She eyed the open window, hoping it was the same window just above the collection of government vehicles. Because wasn’t the garbage dumpster also nearby?

She heard static, before the radio crackled to life. “Report! Eyes on 494?”

She whispered to Alec. “Time to fly.”

And Max leapt out of the window.


	3. Conversations

Chapter 2 – Conversations

Max hadn’t planned to go back to the old factory, but her brain wasn’t fully functional—probably due to blood loss. Maybe she had started Alec’s transfusion too early. She just didn’t think Alec could wait for her to settle in for the night.

As soon as she had taken the leap of faith (literally) out the window, she had finally admitted that Alec was bleeding out on her. And when she was far enough away from the warehouse, Max collapsed on the ground with Alec on top of her. Thankfully, her bike was only a few yards away. She started digging through her backpack, pulling out medical supplies, knowing that anyone could show up any moment.

Yet all she could think was—

 _Save Alec now._  
  
So she inserted the IV and started the transfusion. Then she might have passed out. So it was a good thing that a random pigeon decided to visit—on her chest. The sharp claws and sudden pecking woke her up. Otherwise, she’d have given Alec all her blood and been none the wiser.

Not the best rescue expedition for sure.

But she had managed to stop the transfusion and get them both on her bike. Somehow. The details were still fuzzy to her. And now she was sitting on a dusty floor, struggling to keep conscious. She was tired. But she was more worried about Alec. It had been over 24 hours since she had placed Alec on the makeshift mattress of torn boxes and old blankets. It didn’t look comfortable, but it was the best she could do, considering that most factories didn’t come with spare beds.

She placed a hand on him, her fingers lightly touching the edge of a bandage, the one wrapped tightly over the gunshot wounds. Images of digging into his chest, looking for the rounds kept playing in her mind, like an endless movie reel. He had lost so much blood, and when she finally allowed herself to feel for his pulse, she hadn't been able to find it. She almost punched him in sheer frustration.

Instead, she blindly kicked the nearest thing to her. The empty bookshelf toppled over, and Max started swearing but made no move to stop the fall. She buried her head in her hands, her palms digging into her eyes, refusing to cry, too angry to admit any kind of defeat.

The silence was brutal. She had not realized how much she missed his incessant chatter, the noise, the energy—the exasperation and joy that only Alec could bring. Only he could make her laugh and want to throttle him in the same instant.

She shook her head and got her breathing under control. She would never accept, that after working hours to save him—that Alec, so still and so quiet, was lying dead in front of her.

Instead, she just decided she was too stupid to find his pulse.

* * *

“What do you mean it’s gone!” White looked at the agent standing in front him. He stood resolute, and he seemed calm, but White noticed a vein throbbing on the man’s temple.

“Sir, it was there last night. I don’t know what happened.” The agent pulled up the monitor and pointed to the empty parking lot.

“You imbecile! It’s bad enough that 452 stole 494 out from under us. Now you’re saying she took his bike as well?” White spat the words through clenched teeth. He drew his weapon and jammed the barrel into the agent’s temple. “You have one hour to find that bike.” He smiled pleasantly. “Or I will shoot you.”

* * *

Alec still had not moved. It was unnatural. She was used to seeing him in action. He was constantly in motion, arms waving around, always making jokes or flirting—or just talking about anything really. It was annoying and soothing at the same time.

But this kind of quiet from Alec? She didn’t think she could bear another moment. She wanted to shake him awake. She had given him a good mix of painkillers and sedatives, but it should have worn off by now. At the very least, he should be complaining about something.

Max felt heaviness in her heart. She needed something, even a little flutter of eyelashes, just so she’d know that he was alive. She held onto his hand, absently squeezing, not realizing the significance. Then— 

_Why was he so warm?_  
  
Holding her breath, Max touched his forehead next. 

And she dropped her head in relief, her fingers lingering on his face. Alec was running a fever. Which was excellent news. 

Because Alec couldn’t be dead _and_ running a fever.

* * *

“Well?” White stopped pacing, staring at the agent in front of him. “Where’s the bike?”

“Sir, I need more time—“

The gunshot was loud. The body crumpled onto the floor.

White waved his gun at the fallen agent. “Get him out of my sight.” He looked at the monitor, then eyed the remaining agents in front of him. “The tracking device is still at the factory. Find that bike. When you find it, you’ll find 452 and 494.”

“Do not disappoint me.” White checked his clip. “I’m running out of bullets.”

* * *

Max felt the sweat dripping down the back of her neck, down her chest, and even between her elbows. She’d just spent the last three hours moving Alec to an abandoned motel on the outskirts of the city. It had been slow, but necessary. She knew it was only a matter of time before White realized that the bike was missing. Which meant that his team would show up and start scouring the area soon.

She’d been so desolate, wondering if Alec would make it through those 24 hours, she’d forgotten about everyone else. White finding their hiding place? Mole dismissing her concerns? Bessie parked with the enemies? All of it—

 _So what, so what, so what._  
  
None of it mattered. She only cared that Alec wasn’t responding to the treatment. He wasn’t getting better, but he wasn’t getting worse. She would take that as a small victory. She was so deep in her thoughts, she almost missed it, the faint rasping of his voice.

“Max?” 

And just like that, her world went from unspeakable bleakness to relief and joy.

* * *

“I had a bad dream!” Alec looked at her, struggling to sit up.

“Keep still Alec.” Max reached out her hand, gently pushing, avoiding the dressing on his shoulder. She made sure not to push too hard. She remembered how easily she had dismissed his shoulder injury months ago. She would do better this time.

“But you’re so far away.” He sounded distressed.

“I’m right next to you.” Max scooted closer, keeping contact with him. “Tell me about the dream.”

“It was terrible, terrible.” Alec lowered his voice. “We fell out a window!”

“We jumped out actually.” Max admitted reluctantly.

“And we landed in a giant trashcan!” He continued with enthusiasm.

“It was a dumpster full of cardboard.” She sighed. “We got lucky.”

“It still smelled.” Alec sniffed delicately. “I need a shower.”

“I’ll clean you up. After we move.” Max rubbed his arm soothingly.

“We’re leaving Seattle?” He sounded confused.

“Definitely.” Max nodded.

“Why?” Now he sounded curious.

“Someone’s trying to kill us.” She tucked the blankets around him.

“Why?” And this time, Alec sounded serious, and very concerned too.

Startled, Max opened her mouth—then shut it without saying a word. She peered into Alec’s eyes. She expected a bright green, or maybe hazel—but she was surprised to find his eyes nearly translucent. She couldn’t tell the color of his eyes.

_Was this conversation real?  
_

* * *

“That must have been your plan. I would never jump out of a window.” Alec frowned, pushing at his blanket.

“What?” Max murmured, eyeing the bandage over his abdomen. “Stop moving. Something reopened.”

“Remember when you broke me out prison? We could have taken those guards and jumped that fence. But you ripped that drainpipe out of the wall, and we were hanging on by our fingertips. So the guards below could shoot at us instead.” He sounded thoughtful.

Max grunted, knowing it didn’t matter what she said.

“Your plans never make sense. But I keep going with you.” Alec paused, blinking slowly, like he was trying to figure it out. “Why?” 

Resigned, Max closed her eyes, waiting for his next words.

But it was silent. Alec had fallen back asleep. Thankfully.

These one-sided conversations with Alec were slowly killing her. And he wasn’t even trying.

* * *

“We found the tracker, sir. It was buried under a pile of boxes.” The voice came through loud and clear over the phone. Whoever the agent was, he knew _not_ to report to White in person.

“And?” White growled impatiently. “Tell me you found something so I don’t waste a bullet on you.”

“Sir, no one heard a detonation. Perhaps the wiring to the ignition was faulty. We can still remotely detonate the bomb.”

“Interesting.” White paused to consider it. “We have range?”

“She holed up here, last night, a few miles away from us. She can’t be far, especially if she’s hauling 494 around.”

“Do it. Blow up the bike, and tell me where the explosion is.” White narrowed his eyes, staring at the monitor. It showed his agents searching outside the old factory.

“Yes sir.” And the line went dead.

White switched his focus to the satellite image of the area surrounding the factory.

He waited for the explosion to light up the screen. It did.

But not anywhere he expected. Because, if that screen was right, then—

The old factory just blew up.

Not the damned bike.

* * *

“Why do you hurt me so much?” His voice shook with a painful clarity.

Max looked at Alec, fearful that he was lucid this time.

“I’m not good enough for you.” Each word sliced deeply—because Alec believed what he was saying.

“That’s not true.” Max whispered in horror, knowing that he heard nothing.

“You keep lying to me. You only want him. You protect him. You hold his hand. I saw you.”

The words were bad enough. But his voice, it resonated with such pain. And betrayal.

“I’m done with him. I told you. I told him. It’s over.” Max prayed that he heard her.

But Alec kept going.

“I don’t know if I can be your friend anymore.” Then Alec turned his gaze to her, the green still cloudy, but the misery real.

“Every time you throw me out, I come crawling back. What’s wrong with me?” He stared at her bleakly, penetrating her shield, not even realizing it took no effort to break her.

She had no words for him. Nothing to make him feel better. Nothing to save herself.

And Max couldn’t take it anymore.

She injected him with his next dose. One hour early.

* * *

“So far, I have neither 452 nor 494.” White tapped his foot, staring at the crater that used to be the old factory.

None of his agents responded. One wrong word would be instant death. It was just that kind of day.

“The bike vanished into thin air.” He scanned the surrounding area. Even the parking lot had been obliterated. Just how much explosive had been used?

“You tell him the deal is off.” He pointed to the man closest to him. “Unless he can give me the location of 452, I’m going to expose him.”

“The rest of you, find any remains and dispose of them.” He waved vaguely toward the charred mess, already walking away.

“Maybe I’ll expose him anyway.” White smiled slowly, already plotting his next move.

* * *

“You won’t remember any of this.” Max injected his next dose of medicine.

“I have perfect memory.” Alec sniffed. “I remember everything.”

“Not this. You told me things, things you would never tell me.” Max withdrew the needle, massaging his forearm, refusing to look at him. “And I told you things.”

“So we had an actual conversation without killing each other?” Alec smiled thoughtfully. “That’s good right?”

“It is. I’ll remember all of it.” Max paused, swallowing a sudden lump in her throat. “But you’ll remember none of it.”

Alec frowned, intent on contradicting her. She interrupted him instead.

“So all this, us finally talking to each other—it doesn’t count.” Max blinked away her tears. “None of this is real.”

* * *

“It’s been two days. Your temp is going down. Maybe tomorrow you’ll be back to normal. But your wounds still need time to heal.”

Max flicked the needle, popping the small air bubble.

“I’m adding a paralytic to the meds. I don’t want you to move. I won’t be here to keep you still, and I need to check the perimeter.”

Alec was unconscious, but Max kept talking. He said that she never told him anything, so now she was telling him everything. Even if he was asleep. Especially because he was.

She wallowed in the silence, safe because he couldn’t accuse her of more crimes. She couldn’t wrap her head around the misery she’d caused him. She’d done so much damage, she wasn’t sure how to move forward. So for now, she focused on Alec, on trying to make him comfortable so he could heal faster.

“Your face looks better. Not as swollen, and the bruising is less.” She smoothed some hair off his forehead. “Your chest is awful, but the wounds are clean, no infections. The knife wounds in your belly, I had to put some stitches in.” She eyed the bandages on his torso, still pristine white, thankful that nothing had reopened. “And we won’t even talk about the shoulder. We’ll just pretend you didn’t get hit there again.” Her hand lingered on his cheek, her thumb lightly touching his mouth.

“Wait for me ok?”

Then she left the room, knowing that this silent reprieve would be over soon.

* * *

A sweaty Max sat on the floor, leaning against the wall, watching the saline drip by the bed. Her entire body hurt from physical exertion. She had spent the last hour blurring through the perimeter, checking the alarms. She might have tripped a few times, collecting a few more bruises, but she was too tired too care. Her body desperately needed sleep, but she refused to close her eyes. It was enough to watch Alec sleep. She could rest when she knew he was better.

The perimeter was secure at least. Even their bikes were undisturbed. That alone had been separate physical ordeal. After she had dismantled the bomb under Alec’s bike, she realized belatedly that she now had two bikes, plus a heavy and unconscious Alec to transport to safety. It was too much. She had almost given up on the concrete parking lot right then.

Instead, she had looked at the dismantled bomb in front of her. It was scattered in pieces, ready to be reassembled, if she felt like it. And because she was feeling a bit weary and alone, she decided she needed some fireworks to cheer herself up. 

When was the last time she blew something up?

She had already scouted the old building, noting the load bearing walls. She had enough material for three small bombs. All she had to do was place them strategically, and the whole building would come crashing down—and then some.

Whoever had rigged Alec’s bike had used too much explosive. And that had turned out to be a good thing. As she started placing the new bombs in position, she had stumbled in a large barren area littered with scrap metal. How had she missed this before? 

Because seriously—

If her eyes were working properly, then she had just walked into the garage. And in it was a treasure trove of supplies—with one very beat up delivery truck.

It was the best gift ever.

No one heard her gasp with surprise. No one saw her dance with glee. Not that it mattered, but finally, finally—Max could see the light at the end of the tunnel. All she had to do repair the truck, and she could haul Alec and both their bikes in one shot.

She had worked through the night, taking breaks to check on Alec and administer his medication. And when the engine finally turned, she started laughing hysterically. Because maybe she had used Alec’s beloved bike for spare parts. That alone would send him over the edge. She had almost considered taking apart the Ninja, but she was still raw from Alec’s impromptu conversations. Besides, she was doing all the work, and he didn’t get a vote.

She stretched slowly, working out some kinks in her neck. And even though her body was protesting from lack of sleep (and lack of food), she took great care in loading Alec into the cab. She was feeling so good, she had actually driven a good 20 yards, humming a nameless tune—when a nagging feeling hit her.

She peeked over her shoulder, finding Alec safely strapped in behind her. He hadn’t moved an inch. Sighing in relief, thinking she was overreacting, she glanced in the rearview mirror—and froze.

 _Was that Alec's bike? And hers too?_  
  
And maybe she had banged her head against the steering wheel before she let out some choice words. She counted a few breaths, just to collect the fractured pieces of her brain. It was just too many days without sleep. Even a revved up girl like her needed to recharge.

Even now, watching Alec sleep, she was jealous because she wanted a few minutes to close her eyes. And she almost did. But she heard a small groan—and it wasn’t her—which meant that Alec was coming around again.

What was he going to say now?

* * *

“Come here Max.” Alec watched her, leaning against the wall, far away from him.

She ignored him, pulling imaginary thread from her shirt.

“You’re so uptight. Relax.” He patted space on the bed. “Hop in.”

But she just shook her head. 

“Lighten up Max. You’re too tired to jump me. And I’m too tired to push you off.” Alec waited, careful not to smile.

“You would push me off?” There it was, her surprise.

“See, that’s how tired I am. You could take advantage of me, and I wouldn’t be able to protect my virtue.” Alec blinked with innocence.

Her mouth might have twitched, he was almost sure.

“Stop fighting me Max.” Alec gave her a serious look—and waited.

Max said nothing. She only nodded and crawled into the bed.

“Isn’t that better? You’re not annoying me, and we can finally rest now.” He couldn’t stop grinning, now that Max was next to him.

“You talk too much.” Max sighed before she closed her eyes in exhaustion. 

“You’re welcome.” And Alec pulled her close.

* * *

Even before she touched his forehead, she knew that his fever had broken.

She could rise, pretend that she had never slept next to him. Except that Max knew she was done pretending. When Alec had been deep in fever, he’d had no filter. He’d exposed every hurt she’d done him. Every time she’d belittled him or rejected him or accused him—she’d driven the knife deeper.

It was time to pull out the knife.

How would he react then, when he woke up and she was there? Would he tease her—or would he push her off, just like he said? Or maybe he would ignore her?

Did it matter even? 

So she resolved to deal with the fallout, with any confusion or awkwardness—or pain. She was still wiped out—and looking at the clock—it had only been two hours since Alec had bullied her into resting.

She closed her eyes, knowing her body still needed sleep. Even when the sudden panic hit her, she forced herself to breathe deeply. She could do this. She could be honest with him.

She could stop pretending that Alec was just a friend.


	4. Obsession

Chapter 3 – Obsession 

Alec could tell he had been drugged. His entire body felt heavy, like it was buried under a pile of rocks, except he felt nothing on his skin. The air was cool and soothing, even if he couldn’t open his eyes to check his surroundings. He could smell though, and that was the confusing part. Vanilla and cherry, it was everywhere, the scent so close to his nose. It smelled like Max. He listened and patiently, he waited. _There!_ He heard it, even if she denied it (as she always did). She had a funny little snore when she was tired.

Max was sleeping right next to him. Why? 

Carefully, he tried to wiggle his fingers. Nothing. But something else happened. Max moved. She shifted her hips closer to Alec and sighed. She let her head fall into the crook of his shoulder. Her hair was all up in his face, her delightful ass was buried in his crotch, and his mind stopped. 

_Was Max spooning him?_  
  
He was never one to look a gift horse in its mouth. No, he was grateful for the drugs. There was no way Max could blame him for this spooning incident. He was paralyzed, literally. This was not his fault. He was going back to sleep. It wasn’t everyday he woke to find Max in his arms—and she wasn’t trying to beat him senseless for it.

He was worn out anyway. He was pretty sure he earned the drugs, even if he couldn’t remember why. Max could tell him later. For now, he was going to enjoy the very close proximity of a non-belligerent, sleeping Max.

It was heaven.

* * *

Slowly, like the cat she was, Max stretched, raising her hands overhead, flexing her fingers, wiggling her toes, arching her back. It felt good. Her body wasn’t nearly as sore as it was two days ago. She knew she dropped a good 12 feet from that window—with Alec on top of her. Maybe if he had rolled right off, it would have been less painful. But he had been unconscious, so he was dead weight, nearly 180 pounds of Alec muscle.

True, landing in the dumpster full of boxes helped cushion the fall—somewhat. But boxes had corners and ragged edges, and she’d landed unevenly, making her knees buckle—and forcing her to face plant. She’d had no hands to break her fall (she’d refused to let go of Alec)—and well, it wasn’t her most graceful moment. At least Alec hasn’t been witness to that.

She sighed, forcing her mind to the present, knowing that she’d have to let go of any pain Alec had inadvertently caused her the last few days. She’d made her decision, and she would follow through. She would embrace the consequences of staying in his bed. It was a terrifying thought—but at the same time, she felt a sudden lightness in her, the decision having been made. 

Still, the drugs would be wearing off soon. Could she do this?

She listened, and it was quiet, his breathing even, his body relaxed. Carefully, she turned in his arms, until she was nose to nose with him. The cut above his eye looked good, the redness gone, the swelling down. Those lashes, so impossibly long—what she wouldn’t give to be looking into his clear green eyes instead. 

She cupped his cheek, her thumb absently massaging his lower lip, as she inspected his cheekbone, studying the many colors, proof that the massive bruise was healing nicely. Her hand trailed down his neck, skimmed his shoulder, and paused at the bandage. She winced. He was going to be pissed that he got shot in the shoulder. Again. But it was a through-and-through. No digging for bullet fragments, for which she was thankful.

The chest wound was terrifying. Two bullets at close range. Numerous stab wounds to his belly. He should have been dead. But Alec was stubborn and so was Max. He was not allowed to die. So it had been two days straight of blood transfusions, clean bandages, and drugs to minimize the pain. Even Alec’s unconscious verbal assault hadn’t slowed her down.

Max rubbed her eyes, thankful that Alec seemed to be better—but her mind was bleary with fatigue. And her heart was still in recovery—from listening to Alec list her sins in excruciating detail. She needed a break. _Did this motel room have a bathtub?_

She should check. First though, Alec needed a fix. He did not need to wake up while she was in the bath.

 _Where was that syringe anyway?_  
  
Slowly, so she wouldn’t jiggle Alec too much, Max sat up, looking around the room, checking the windows, the door—everything looked normal. She found the syringe on the end table. It was an odd cocktail of morphine and codeine and maybe some vicodin. It worked on transgenics (mostly), and that’s all that mattered. It gave Alec time for his body to heal.

Quickly, efficiently, she picked up his arm, found his vein, and administered the shot. She didn’t even notice Alec’s eyes flutter open. She had already tucked the sheets around him and started shedding her clothes. 

_Finally. Bath time.  
_

* * *

He was in a deep sleep. At first, he thought he was dreaming. It was such a light touch, he wasn’t sure it was real. But he heard her sigh, and he felt her fingers skim his face, cup his cheek—and was she touching his lips?

That was her thumb, he was sure of it. He really wanted to open his mouth and—damn. His tongue felt a bit heavy still, but he could figure something out—maybe a quick lick? Would she kill him for trying?

Her hand stopped exploring, pausing at his shoulder. Not a good sign. Either she was admiring his rather spectacular deltoid, or she was checking out the latest injury. And the dull pain in his shoulder—the incredibly familiar pain—meant another gunshot wound—in the same spot. Would the irony ever end? Maybe he could practice standing differently, present other viable body parts to shoot at?

 _Why did it hurt to breathe?_  
  
The bed shifted, and he worked hard not to open his eyes. He didn’t want her to start yelling at him for faking his sleep. So he counted to ten—in Russian. 

_Why was he so cold now?_  
  
He forced his eyes to open. Max was calmly tapping his arm, looking for his vein. Before he could open his mouth, he felt the sting of the needle. Dammit. He wasn’t ready to go under yet. He was sure he could get a few complaints out, except—

Max was already pulling off her tank top. She tossed it over her shoulder. It landed on the bed. The bra was next—and that went flying to the left. It landed on a chair. She didn’t even slow down as she shimmied out of her panties. Those she left on the floor, just before she stepped into the bathroom.

His jaw dropped. Had she always been a slob?

Did it matter? He couldn’t tear his eyes away. All smooth skin, toned muscles, and gentle curves in all the right places—with her dark hair tumbling down her back. It was a magnificent striptease—all four seconds of it.

He was sure he was sporting a hard-on—in addition to his shoulder wound—and whatever broke his chest in half.

He felt himself fading. He heard the water turn on. He hoped his erection would go away by the time Max got out of her bath. She was notorious for her long baths anyway. And he could always blame the drugs.

He finally gave in, closed his eyes, and let the drugs take over.

She would never know that he saw her.

He smiled.

* * *

It was a rough towel, but Max didn’t care. She finally felt clean. She rubbed herself dry, her skin pink and a bit wrinkled—how long had she been in the bathtub?

Whatever. She wrapped the towel around herself, grimacing when it barely went around her. It was gaping down the front of her body.

Not acceptable.

Slowly, she rotated the towel until the indecent gaping landed on her hip. Now she was covered. Mostly.

She snorted. Not that it mattered. Alec was dead asleep anyway. She glanced at the bathroom clock. And blinked in surprise.

 _Three hours in the bathtub?_  
  
No wonder she resembled a prune.

Maybe she had fallen asleep. That would explain how water had gone up her nose. She couldn’t remember washing her face. Had she accidentally sunk into the water?

 _Ridiculous._  
  
She was never going to admit she almost drowned while napping in the bathtub. So she stomped out of the bathroom instead.

At which point, she forgot to be quiet because Alec was sleeping. She started grumbling when she couldn’t find her backpack. She kicked her boots out of the way. She kicked the coffee table because it was ugly. She pulled up sofa cushions and threw them against the window. Muttering, with her hands on her hips, Max gnawed her bottom lip and surveyed the room.

“Bingo!” She stalked toward the bed, triumphant.

* * *

The tiny towel was perilously close to falling off. Every time Max muttered some obscenity, the towel slipped just a little, exposing more skin, leaving Alec breathless. After she knocked some sense into the coffee table, he was sure that gravity would win and claim the towel.

But he was not that lucky.

Instead, she stood still, eyeballing the room. Then she started toward him, and he knew the jig was up. He waited for her to smack him upside the head.

Except, it didn’t happen.

He could smell her shampoo and soap. She was that close to him. What was she doing?

Carefully, he opened his eyes. And forgot to breathe.

Max was standing in front of him, rooting through her backpack, in all her naked glory.

Gravity had won after all. The towel was somewhere on the floor.

And Alec was still Alec. Forget the drugs. He was stronger and faster—and determined. He reached out and pulled her on top of him. He didn’t hear her squeal of surprise. He didn’t feel the pain of her body landing on his. He just knew that his arms were full of Max and that was all he needed.

Max.

* * *

“Alec, you’re hurt! Let me up!” Max tried to wriggle free, but his arms were steel bands around her. She could push him away, but she didn’t want to risk any wounds reopening. “Alec?”

“You smell good.” Alec nuzzled her neck. 

“Come on. I need to get dressed.” Gently, she tried to untangle his arms. 

“I’m not complaining. You can stay as long as you like.” Alec smiled into her hair.

Max looked down the length of her body. She was plastered against his. Chest to chest, belly to belly, hip to hip—and her mind sputtered. Why did this feel so good, so right? She had been prepared to open her heart to him—but this? She had forgotten how physical Alec was, that he needed to touch and be touched. She had spent all that time worried about his reaction—she had forgotten she might have her own reaction. 

Unbidden, a new thought slammed into her head, forcing a stillness, surprise and certainty mixing and colliding. “We, we—we’re, uh—“ Max faltered, blinking rapidly.

“Naked?” Alec offered helpfully, a playful smirk already in place. She didn’t disappoint. She walloped him good. He shook his head, ears still ringing.

“Yes, genius. I just finished my bath. And you—you’re still recovering from your many, many injuries.” She looked at him, holding his face with both hands. “You still need to get better.” She dropped her forehead to his, closing her eyes. “I almost lost you.”

Those hazel eyes, sometimes a bright green, ever changing, right now, were almost golden, swirling with unnamed emotion. “Max, look at me.” Alec traced her eyelids until she reluctantly gave in. Big brown eyes stared back, laced with worry, and something else too. “You felt it. Just now. Right?”

Alec held his breath, waiting for the instant denial, hoping against it anyway.

He felt her body tremble. Was she about to tense up? Jump off him? Suffocate him with a pillow?

Instead she relaxed against his body. “Yeah.” Max murmured against his neck. Then her eyes fluttered closed as she rubbed her cheek against his. “Ok.”

Stunned, Alec couldn’t speak, afraid that Max was playing a terrible joke on him. Slowly, he forced his words out, deciding that he had nothing to lose, deciding he was done waiting on Max.

“We fit. You and me.” And he released his hold on her, his hands seeking hers, fingers intertwined. “We belong together.”

Max snuggled deeper into his body. “Don’t tell anyone.” She whispered into his neck.

Alec felt the joy spreading in him. But he still snorted in laughter. “Everyone knows. You’re the last one to figure it out.” He kissed her forehead. “I was waiting on you.”

Max shook his fingers loose and reached for his ass. Pinched him hard.

Alec yelped. “I knew it! Always with my ass. Come on Maxie, admit it.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her. “You are obsessed.”

Slowly, Max raised her body off his torso, until she was leaning on her elbows. Unknowingly, she offered a stunning view of cleavage. Alec felt his mouth go dry. Max was going to fight dirty.

“I am obsessed with your ass.” Deliberately, she sat up, meeting his gaze, challenge clear in her eyes. She cupped his ass in approval. “With your broken chest.” She leaned over to kiss his sternum. “With your poor, damaged shoulder.” She trailed hands up his arms, over his shoulders, up his neck. “With your very pretty face.” She rubbed her nose on his bruised cheekbone. “With your eyes, that can’t decide on one color.” She pressed a light kiss on the cut above his eyebrow. “With your mouth, those lips.” Her mouth hovered right above his, a scant inch away, so close, and still so far. She moved even closer, breathing heavy on his lips, but moved away, leaning back, her head tilted to one side. “I am obsessed with all of you.”

Alec was mesmerized. He couldn’t stop looking at her. He maybe only heard the first sentence. He couldn’t focus on her words. He wanted to reach up and cup those perfect breasts. She was right there. She almost kissed him—on the mouth. What happened?

Then he felt the prick. “Goddammit Max!” He felt the drugs coursing through his veins. “How much time before I lose consciousness?”

Max hopped off the bed. “About 60 seconds, give or take.” She pulled a clean bra and panties from her backpack. Quickly, she dressed as she eyed Alec. “We’re on a schedule. Your body needs at least one more day of rest. I’ll be out of drugs by then anyway.”

“Come back here.” Alec patted the bed, his deep voice solemn. “I can give you one full minute of total pleasure before I black out.”

Max laughed in surprise. “Tempting.” She shook her head. “But I require more than one minute of pleasure.”

Alec stared at her, taking in her jeans and t-shirt. She was fully dressed in no time at all. Already his vision was beginning to blur. The drugs were kicking in fast. “Don’t leave Max. Who’s going to be your back up when I’m slacking off like this?” He gestured feebly before he felt his eyes close. “Max?”

Max was already at the door. She had wanted to scout the perimeter while he was asleep. He seemed to know whenever she wanted to leave. He always knew when she was about to bail. She leaned her head against the door. Just minutes ago, she was lying on top of him, without a stitch of clothing. It was serious and playful and scary—all at once. She wanted to think she didn’t mean any of it, but she knew. And he knew. He always knew. Even when she flew off the handle, irrational and violent, he knew.

She unlaced her boots and dumped them by the door. She tossed her jacket on the chair. The jeans went flying to the couch. The shirt landed on top of the jeans. Which left her in panties and a bra. She would keep those on. She still planned to head out. Maybe she’d take a short nap with Alec first.

Carefully, she sat on the edge of the bed, scooting over, slowly stretching the length of her body against his. She closed her eyes. It felt good, just to be with him like this. Goddammit. She hated when he was right.

* * *

Alec smiled. He was right. Even though he was getting sleepy, the drugs were taking longer to kick in—which meant that his body was building up a tolerance. He felt the bed dip when she climbed in. He had worried that he would have to go chasing after her, and his chest still felt like a tank rolled over it. He wanted to sigh in relief. He wanted to pull her close. He wanted to kiss her thank you.

But he did nothing. She would know he lied, she would double the dose, and she would forget that she loved him. Not that she had said the words, but that was fine by him. He figured obsessed was a synonym anyway. He was obsessed with her too.

He felt Max take his hand, pulling his arm over their bodies. She snuggled deeper into his body, and sighed. She was so quiet, so still, that he almost missed her words. He felt her kiss his fingertips, then settle their joined hands on her stomach.

“You win.”

Alec couldn’t breathe. The enormity of her words hit him.

When had Max ever just done what he asked? When had she not questioned him, fought him, denied him, punished him?

Tonight, he asked her to stay.

She stayed.

And even though she would kick his ass tomorrow morning, he leaned over and kissed the back of her head. He pulled her tighter in his arms. He was feeling too much and not enough.

Max squeezed his hand and said nothing.

She was going to let him have this moment.

No words from Max, and that said everything.

It was a moment of clarity for them both.


	5. Breach

Chapter 4 – Breach

Max heard the first explosion at 0100. She listened for Alec’s breathing before she let herself stretch. The shoulder looked good, but she doubted he had any range of motion. The chest wound, she still worried about that. His lungs weren’t at full capacity yet. The drugs helped some, but she knew he’d built up a tolerance. She had already doubled the dose, and he was coming out of it faster than before.

She might only have today left, where he stayed in bed without fighting her. He needed the rest, but the drugs would prove useless after today.

The next explosion happened thirty minutes later.

The outer perimeter had been breached.

* * *

Alec heard a distant explosion, though he wasn’t sure if he dreamed it. He wasn’t sure of much, except that he was delirious with joy when he found Max lying next to him. Was any of this real? He worried that he’d finally cracked his head one too many times. That he’d been hallucinating for how many days now?

* * *

She reached for the syringe with one hand, massaging Alec’s forearm with the other. She injected the last dose and withdrew the needle. 

Max eased out of bed, trying not to wake Alec. He was going to be pissed.

* * *

Did she just inject him—four hours early? Alec eyed the digital clock on the nightstand. Yes, she did. She was definitely up to something.

She was trying to sneak out of the room. Except, it was too soon. Something was wrong with this whole setup, but he’d never figured it out. He was too damn happy just being near Max, so he forgot to ask questions. He forgot to think.

He’d welcomed the drugs. He’d welcomed the bliss.

Something was wrong. He felt it in his bones. And Max was about to take care of it.

Without him.

* * *

Why was she always losing her backpack? Was it under the bed again?

She kneeled by the bed, moving bed sheets, a fallen pillow, a random sofa cushion.

She yelped when she felt Alec’s vice grip on her wrist.

“Going somewhere Max?” Cool green eyes stared at her, challenging her, waiting for her answer.

“Incoming.” She murmured, as she caressed his hand soothingly. Then she leaned over and kissed his forehead.

* * *

It was the dichotomy of Max. Only she could lull him into complacency and tell him that enemies were just a few blocks out.

He wanted to throttle her. The drugs were overlapping now. She knew they wouldn’t keep him. So it was a failsafe. Whatever the dose, she had upped it. She wanted him out of the way.

He was going to break the next syringe he saw.

He wanted to weep when he realized he couldn’t move his arms. His legs were like lead. Had she added an extra paralytic to the cocktail?

He watched as she carefully moved his hand. She tucked the sheets around him.

“How many Max?” It was a struggle just to speak.

She didn’t answer. Instead, she pulled a laptop out of her backpack. She showed him six different camera angles on the screen. He counted two figures, dressed in black, moving stealthily down the alley.

“White?”

Max shook her head. “They don’t move like Familiars.” She cocked her head when she heard glass breaking. “Too noisy. Hit all the obvious alarms. White would have laughed and stepped around them. These guys are just bulldozing through.”

“Don’t leave.” Alec tried to keep his voice even, but he was panicking. Max had that look about her, the one where she pretended you had an opinion, but really, she’d already made her decision.

“I stayed last night.” She cupped his cheek, her thumb rubbing along his bottom lip. “I need to check these guys.”

“I can’t move.” Alec stared at her, willed her to see his logic. “I can’t protect you. I can’t protect me.” He wanted to reach for her, stop her somehow, but his body was useless, frozen in place—exactly as she wanted.

“I can take these guys.” She held his gaze, as she stood up and stepped away. “Ok?”

“Not ok.” Alec growled deep and low. “Never ok.”

“Hey, look at me.” She kneeled by the bed, so she could be eye to eye with him. “I got this.”

“Don’t do that to me.” Alec glared at her, intense green eyes radiating anger and something else. “I hate it Max. Just don’t.” 

Max recoiled in surprise. “Don’t what? Beat up the bad guys?” She rocked back on her heels, confused by his reaction.

“Don’t use that voice on me. That quiet one, all gentle like, the one you use on Joshua.” Alec focused on his breathing, trying to calm down, wanting so badly to break something, frustrated that he couldn’t even twitch.

Max stilled, opened her mouth in denial, knowing she was about to lose her temper—but no words spilled out. If Alec were mobile, he’d have locked her in the closet. Or sat on her until she saw reason. She wanted to convince him. But she also wanted him safe. And it was something else too. She saw his pain, the pain she was causing him. He worried for her, and before it didn’t matter. She was confident in her skills, arrogant even—despite the fact that she was often hasty and impulsive. Alec was always around to pitch in. Oh, he complained—a lot—but he always had her back. Even when he did not agree with her. Even when she took him for granted.

Alec felt it—he was losing consciousness. He did not want to see her walk out the door, just to get hurt. How could he convince her to stay? 

“Two minutes. I need to reroute them.” She paused, watching him fight to stay awake. “I can fight them here, if it makes you feel better.”

“Are you demented?” Alec groaned in frustration, forcing his eyelids to remain open. “Not here! Away from us!”

Max heard boxes topple over. They were across the street. She had just enough time. She couldn’t postpone leaving any longer. “I’ll be back.” She wanted to reach out, touch him, soothe him—anything to calm him down. Instead, she blurred to the door and left the room.

Alec heard the door click shut. He let out a string of curses before he blacked out.

* * *

Max watched the two men across the street. They were rifling through the trash. They should be headed to the motel soon. If they weren’t too dumb to pick up on the clues she left behind. She sighed. It was taking her longer to wait on these morons. A handicapped turtle would move faster than these guys. She was sure of it.

* * *

Alec wasn’t sure how much time had passed. Had it been two minutes already? He eyed the digital clock with menace. Was that clock right? Had he been out for a whole hour? Goddammit! Where was Max?

* * *

Max stripped out of her jeans and t-shirt. The idiot assassins were taking too long. She might as well stay with Alec. She’d hear them before they showed up anyway. And she’d been sleeping a lot—maybe too much—since she and Alec had moved into the motel room. 

Whatever. She crawled into bed, curving her body against his. She’d close her eyes for a few minutes. She’d rest then. She’d deal with the morons later.

* * *

Alec woke with a start. He thought he heard the door. He took a deep breath and waited, let his senses take over, let his mind release the panic.

He smelled Max. She was lying right next to him, her leg thrown over his, her hand holding his loosely. He flexed his fingers, relieved that he could move even a little. He tried moving his leg—but no dice. 

He heard her breathing change, felt her grip tighten on his hand. “Keep still.” She kissed the palm of his hand. “Please.”

He heard the change in her tone. She was asking him—nicely. He didn’t smell any blood on her—so she had managed to avoid fighting after all. 

“Alec, I need your word.” Max turned so she could rub her nose along his chin. “Do not move. Play dead.”

Something was wrong. He shook his head to clear the drugs. “What’s happening?” He heard the creak on the steps outside. He heard the door open.

Max did not move.

His back was against the wall. The bed was pushed up against the wall.

Her body was blocking his. He could not move. She would take the first hit, the first bullet—the first anything.

Alec sucked in his breath in horror.

* * *

“Close your eyes then.” Max felt Alec’s body tense up. So she snuggled into his arms. “We’re about to have visitors.”

She eyed the two figures moving through the living room. One guy stepped around her boots, inspecting the floor, while the other one edged toward the bathroom. 

Could they move any slower? 

She could smell the stale beer and cigarettes. She could also smell something else—it wasn’t fear, or even excitement. Was it boredom? 

She rolled her eyes. She squeezed Alec’s hand and estimated they’d be near the bed in about eight seconds. She closed her eyes and started counting backwards.

_Showtime.  
_

* * *

Alec couldn’t stop the feeling of dread from overtaking him. Two strangers were in the room. He couldn’t move. And Max refused to move.

And for some reason, she kept squeezing his hand.

As if that would comfort him?

He heard the footfalls right next to the bed. And he felt the bed shift, Max’s weight suddenly gone from his arms.

He watched as Max launch herself straight up, her strong thighs locking around the man’s neck. Her hands gripped the man’s ears, and her entire body twisted, forcing the man to lose his balance, and land face first onto the end table. Wood splintered as the table broke. Alec winced when he heard the man’s forehead crack against the floor.

Max was already on top of the other guy. Long legs were wrapped around his waist, squeezing tightly, arms and elbows around his neck, crushing with such force, the poor guy turning purple from her vicious headlock.

 _And what was that noise? Was Max—singing?_  
  
“Hush little baby, don’t say a word.” Max hummed the melody as she let the man’s unconscious body fall to the floor. “Mama’s gonna buy you a mockingbird.” With surprising efficiency, Max had both men gagged and zip tied and rolled out of the way. She stood slowly, rolling out her neck, rolling out her shoulders—then just as slowly, she bent from the waist, her back straight, going lower and lower, until she was touching her toes, practically bent in half.

He swallowed. It was a magnificent view. The way the panties hugged her hips. And that skimpy tank top, the flash of belly— _wait_.

Could he move yet? 

Carefully, he sat up, relieved to find the drugs had mostly worn off. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed behind his head. He was going for nonchalance, even if it killed him.

He watched Max come out of her stretch. He whistled in pure appreciation. He couldn’t stop his smile, and he couldn’t stop his next words.

“Hey Maxie.” His green eyes sparkled with mischief. “You totally don’t need pants to kick ass.”

Max looked over her shoulder and winked. “Damn straight.”


	6. Tag

Chapter 5 – Tag 

Max was grumpy. It was a beautiful day, warm and sunny, with just a touch of wind. Still, she wanted to break something. She scanned the grass in front of her and came up empty. So she kicked the rock in front of her.

“Those guys were pretty useless.” Alec rubbed his neck, as he walked ahead of her.

Max grunted in agreement. “All that work to capture them—and they couldn’t tell us jack.”

Alec stopped walking and turned around. “You find trackers on them?”

Max crashed into him, even as his arms steadied her. She’d been too busy studying the ground, looking for more rocks to kick. She blew a raspberry. “Not even.” She looked at his face, nearly back to its perfect pretty state. “Someone sent in the B-team.” She turned away, scouting the trees in front of her. 

“That’s insulting.” Alec shook his head. 

“Exactly.” Max turned back to him, worried and hesitant. “Why do it?”

Alec had no answer.

* * *

He had an idea, but he knew Max wouldn’t like it. He could keep his mouth shut, but he wasn’t exactly known for that. So he sighed and let it out.

“We got a new player.”

Max barked in laughter. “Someone _else_ wants us dead? Who is left?”

“Dunno Max.” Alec rubbed his temples, distracted by Max’s hair. Today, she’d tried two ponytails. She’d pulled more hair on the left side. She’d also pulled it higher up. The result was lopsided, and adorable really—except he would never use that word to her face. She’d deck him for sure.

“Those guys report to someone. But who?” Max stopped in front of the park bench and kicked it. Then she picked up a smooth, shiny stone, flipping it over between her fingers, admiring it. 

He thought she would drop it into her pocket.

She threw it at the closest tree.

Alec stopped Max from picking up a fallen tree branch. Who knew what she would do with it? “Ok first. Stop abusing all the nature.”

Max straightened, tree branch forgotten. “Are you … scolding me?” Then she stepped back, eyeing him from top to bottom. “You look … good.” She cocked her head to one side, tapping her chin, considering options. “You want to spar?”

Alec raised his hands in surrender. “No thank you. You do not get to kick my ass today.” He pointed to the shoulder wrap and his chest. “I may look good—as I always do—but this—“ His hands gestured wildly over his entire body. “This still needs some recovery.”

Max snorted. It was not ladylike. 

“However!” Alec raised one finger and offered up his glorious, impetuous smile. “If you are in need of … physical activity …” His voice trailed off, as his eyebrows wiggled suggestively.

She kicked him in the shin. Then blinked and smiled with innocence.

Alec rubbed his leg, shooting her dirty looks. “I was going to say—we can play tag. I need to run anyway, stretch my legs.”

“You want to run around the park?” She sounded incredulous.

“It’s a beautiful day.” He raised his arms, closed his eyes, and lifted his face to the sun. “I’m not dead. And no one is trying to kill us.”

“Really Alec?” Max stared at him like he was a moron. “ _Everyone_ is trying to kill us.”

“Just for today? Can it just be us?” Alec waited, wanting her to want this, just a small moment in time. With him, with quiet, with a little bit of joy.

“What does the winner get?” Max blinked serious eyes at him.

Alec couldn’t stop his smile. “What do you want?”

She shrugged. “Not to run anymore? Have dinner without getting shot at? Walk down the street without getting attacked?”

He heard the sadness. He reached out to her, pulled her into his arms, and just held on. He laid his chin on top of her head and whispered, “I’m working on it.”

* * *

Her arms were wrapped around his waist. She wasn’t sure how it happened, and she didn’t want to think about it. It felt right, and that was enough. She leaned into his chest, her ear against his heart. It was a strong, steady beat—Alec was alive. That’s what she wanted. And she would always fight for that—for him. Just last week, Alec had been bleeding out in her arms. And today—

Today was a gift.

* * *

“First, we need rules.” Alec rubbed his hands in anticipation. “No blurring. I’m pretty sure my heart can’t take it.”

“What does your heart have to do with blurring?” Max stared at him in astonishment.

He waved his hand in dismissal. “I’m injured. I get to make the rules.”

Max snickered. “This is tag. It is not complicated.”

Alec raised his eyebrow. “Furthermore, upon contact, loser must not complain.” He stared deep into her brown eyes. “At all.”

Max rolled her eyes at him. “Whatever. You’re the one who complains about everything.”

“Finally—“ Alec paused for effect. “The winner receives the prize immediately.” He leaned into her personal space. “Got it?”

Max blinked curiously at him. “What prize?”

Alec considered the question. “Foot massage?” He shrugged. “Or I can braid your hair?”

Max gasped—then shoved him hard. “You know how to braid?” Then she fingered her uneven ponytails. “What’s wrong with my hair?” 

She actually looked worried. She might know how to kick ass, but she struggled with the girly arts. Alec wanted to laugh, except he caught sight of her fist. She was about ready to hurt him. He hid his smile and pulled her close. “Your hair looks great, amazing really, fantastic.” He wanted to add more words, but he didn’t want to push his luck.

She leaned away and eyed him suspiciously. “The foot massage then. But a quiet one. I don’t want a running commentary on whatever your mouth feels like.”

He nodded in agreement. Carefully, he stepped away from her. “Do I get a prize too?”

“You want a foot massage too?” Max grinned mischievously. “Or maybe a shoulder massage?” She flexed her fingers and cracked her knuckles in the process.

Alec stared at her, eyes trained on that very enticing mouth of hers, those full lips, the tiny mole just above. Slowly, he moved his gaze up her face. Piercing green eyes collided with startled brown ones. 

“I want a kiss.”

* * *

So far, they had done two laps around the park. Alec had not caught her yet. She was convinced he wasn’t even trying. 

She spotted the picnic table and started running toward it. She used the table to launch herself into the air. She was up the tree in no time at all. The leaves shook in protest—then everything stilled.

* * *

Alec was speechless. Had she been perpendicular when she ran up the tree?

All things considered, that seemed unfair.

Ok then. If she was going to show off, then he could too. Quietly, just beneath her, he circled the tree. She was at least 15 feet up. He could do it in two leaps, but he wanted to catch her, not watch her jump away.

He spotted the branch just below her. It was close enough. He could make the jump. He took a deep breath and leapt straight up.

* * *

They were out in the open. It was making her nervous. Max stared at the trees a good distance away. _Was that a reflection?_

She was so intent on pinpointing the location, she forgot that Alec was stalking her. She vaguely noticed the tree shake. 

She smelled him first. He was right behind her. She closed her eyes. She could jump off, make him work for that kiss.

Instead, she leaned back, waiting for his arms to catch her.

* * *

Alec smiled in anticipation. She hadn’t moved. Either she was going deaf, or she was letting him win.

He didn’t care which.

He did care though, when he realized that Max was falling backward—toward him.

* * *

Max smiled slowly, savoring his strong arms around her, holding her tight. He’d caught her, just like she knew he would.

Why did it feel so right? Why did it take her so long to figure this out?

* * *

He held them steady, surprised they hadn’t fallen off the tree yet. Damn, but she felt good in his arms.

Alec cleared his throat. “Uh Max. I don’t think you understand this game.” He paused, waiting for her to acknowledge him. He got nothing but silence.

“You’re supposed to run away from me. Not fall on me.”

She turned slowly, until she was face to face with him. “I spent a year running from you. Today you caught me.” She tilted her head. “Did you win?”

Alec studied her mouth. Carefully, he moved his gaze to meet those expressive brown eyes of hers. He leaned in, breathed in her scent, his mouth hovering close. “Yes.”

* * *

It was an explosion of surprising sensation, warm lips on hers, tender at first, hesitant, as Alec waited for her to respond.

Max granted entry, felt him take the kiss deeper, felt his hands cupping her face. She pulled him close, aching for more, her hands moving up his shirt.

It was everything. It was not enough.

* * *

Finally. Over a year waiting for her, and here she was—in his arms. He never wanted the kiss to end. 

Except, they were too many feet up in the air.

Reluctantly, he broke the kiss and leaned his forehead on hers. He struggled to even out his breathing. He waited for her to open her eyes.

* * *

She felt his breath on her. She wanted to sink into this feeling of completeness. Of coming home. His arms. His kiss. His very presence.

Slowly, she opened her eyes. Why did he look worried?

Whatever. She needed another kiss. So this time she leaned into him. Her breath hitched as she paused. She ran her tongue over his top lip. She felt him shiver in response. She pulled his bottom lip into her mouth. Gently, she sucked until he opened his mouth. This time, she claimed him.

* * *

Alec was certain she’d kiss away his sense of balance. He was good at multi-tasking—but he did not want to fall. He wanted to enjoy Max without worrying about gravity.

For the second time, he broke the kiss.

* * *

Did he stop again?

Max wanted to punch him. Instead, she looked over his shoulder—and she saw it.

It was a definite reflection. It flickered a few times before it disappeared. 

She froze, estimating the distance, marking the tree. It was about 90 degrees east from the first reflection. Were they surrounded?

She turned startled eyes toward Alec. Before she could warn him, Alec leaned over and kissed her nose. “This is an awesome tree. But let’s head back ok?” Alec jumped down gracefully. He looked up at her and grinned. “Race you!”

He took off toward the motel.

Max saw the flickers again. Horrified, she leapt down, yelling at Alec.

“Blur!”

And being Alec, he stopped and turned instead.

* * *

Alec laughed. “That’s one of the rules!” His smile faded, as he realized that Max was blurring toward him.

Even as she crashed into him, he still did not understand.

His arms surrounded her automatically, catching her body, cradling her from the fall.

He heard her gasp in pain, and he still did not understand.

He watched Max struggle to stay conscious. As she breathed one word, his entire world froze.

“Snipers.” 

Finally, his hands felt the warm slickness of blood.

Max had been shot.

* * *

Alec’s mind shut down. He let his instincts take over. He pulled her tight, rolled left, a blur of two bodies, moving over dirt and grass.

Numbly, he watched a bullet hit the ground where he’d been just a second ago.

He didn’t wince when his body crashed into something hard, paper cups and napkins fluttering into the air.

 _Was that the trashcan?_  
  
He didn’t blink when he heard a shot ping off the metal bin.

 _Another sniper. Different direction._  
  
He didn’t notice when he kicked the picnic table upright, just so it could provide some cover.

He didn’t notice a bullet just miss his shoulder.

He didn’t notice that he blurred back to the trees, avoiding the open spaces, making it difficult for the snipers to get a clean shot.

All he noticed, what he didn’t want to notice—was that his hand was stained red with Max’s blood.

He was breathing hard—and Max was hardly breathing at all.

* * *

Max was lying facedown, her right cheek buried in the pillow, her hair tickling her nose. 

It hurt to breathe. It hurt to open her eyes. She did both.

She found Alec sitting against the wall, right next to the bed. His knees were drawn up, his head resting on them, his trusty 9mm right by his side.

“Hey pretty boy.” Her voice sounded hoarse.

Alec’s head snapped up, his dark blond hair sticking up in all directions. She watched a myriad of emotions flicker through those hazel eyes of his—from exhaustion, to worry, to relief. “Hey slacker. You’ve been sleeping for 24 hours. I gotta say, your shark DNA is pretty useless.”

She managed a small smile. “Did I win?”

Alec shook his head gravely. “No. You caught my bullet.” His green eyes flickered some dark emotion. “Don’t ever do that again.”

Max replied into the pillow. It was muffled, but it sounded like, “Whatever.” She tried to turn over, but she couldn’t move. “Alec?”

It was silent. Slowly, she managed to turn toward him. Her eyes widened when she realized what he was holding up.

“Yes, ma’am. Payback’s a bitch.” She heard the glee in his voice, and she wanted to punch the smirk off. She winced when she felt the sting of the needle.

“Dammit. How long?” She muttered into the pillow. Already her eyes felt heavy.

Alec looked innocent and thoughtful. “Oh, 60 seconds, give or take. You gonna give me a full minute of lovin’ before you pass out?”

“Kiss my transgenic ass.” Max shot him a dirty look, struggling to stay conscious.

She watched him smile, his eyes twinkling with pleasure and promise.

“Anytime Maxie.”


	7. Overcome

Chapter 6 – Overcome 

Alec counted the days in his head. It’d been over a week since he got captured, beat up, and held hostage in Max’s medical nirvana.

He tacked on another three days since their impromptu (and apparently) suicidal game of tag. Max was still lying facedown on the bed, in a mild stupor. His drugs weren’t nearly as strong as whatever she’d injected him with.

So he’d spent most of his time stuck in bed, drugged out of his mind—and now Max was taking a turn at it. With all this down time, they should have been able to talk about their—relationship? He smiled. He’d already dubbed it the “obsession confession”—and he knew Max would smack him for that alone. 

He frowned. He didn’t want to get emotional—except it was already too late, right? And whom was he kidding anyway? He’d been stuck on Max since the first time he’d met her. She’d kicked him across the cell so fast, he was sure his ego hadn’t recovered.

He slouched back in the chair, fingers steepled in front of him, legs stretched out, his ankles crossed. His brow furrowed as he considered the situation.

The thing was, neither he nor Max were good at communicating. But they seemed to be fighting less—so that was a positive thing, right?

Alec sighed. He wasn’t sure, and he wanted to be sure. Which meant he had to talk to Max. And since she never started a conversation she wanted to avoid, that meant he had to step up.

He heard Max stir, and he leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. She was coming around. He closed his eyes, seeing a limp, bleeding Max in his arms. The image still shook him—and as much as he hated to admit it—exactly how many times would she have to save his ass? 

Did cats really have nine lives? Because really, how many had they used up already?

* * *

Alec was giving himself a headache. He’d have to talk to her—that was all. He rubbed his temples. Either it was going to be awesome—or.

He groaned at the other possibility. Max would go nuclear.

First she would punch him—in the shoulder (because it still hurt like a bitch). Then she would come up with enough excuses to give him an aneurysm.

Maybe she would say something dumb like, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Or, “That wasn’t real Alec. I just needed to give you the next dose.”

Or just a simple, “Fuck off.” That would do the trick.

Except—Max had kissed him on top of the tree. So even if she denied any feelings for him—he knew damn well she wasn’t faking the kiss. He still knew when a woman wanted him—even one as stubborn as Max.

He opened his eyes, relieved to know he’d finally come to a decision—except really, he’d just done one giant loop. He was exactly where he started. Waiting for Max to wake up so he could talk to her.

Maybe he was nervous—not that he would ever admit that out loud.

He watched Max slowly open her eyes, automatically searching for him.

When her gaze landed on him, he couldn’t stop his smile.

He just wasn’t prepared for when she spoke.

* * *

“You should have left me.” Even Max seemed surprised by her words.

Alec stared in disbelief, too stunned to respond. This hurt, Max thinking so little of him. “When have I ever left you?” 

“Still.” Max took a deep breath. “It’s dangerous for you to be with me.”

“Are you always this stupid after you’ve been shot?” Alec hissed. 

“I got shot in the back. I figured some vital organ got hit.” Max blinked at him.

“Bullet just missed your heart. Nicked your lung though.” Alec studied her with narrowed eyes. “Though the more you keep talking, the more I’m thinking brain damage.”

“Shut up.” She sighed, suddenly tired.

“With pleasure.” Alec closed his eyes in resignation. “I just can’t do anything right, can I?”

Max said nothing.

* * *

Max could feel the distance between them. She was worried about him, and it had come out all wrong. She had practically accused him of—what exactly?

Saving her?

She wasn’t sure. She just knew she’d hurt him. She’d seen it in his eyes. And after the last two weeks with Alec, she was going to have to do something she hated—something she never did, even when she knew she should.

Her back was throbbing, but she reached out to him anyway, her left hand resting on his arm. She waited until he met her gaze, his green eyes unreadable. “Sorry.”

The silence extended for long minutes. Was he even listening to her?

Then, Alec beamed at her, a glorious, devil-may-care smile with lots of perfect teeth. “Huh.”

“Good huh, or bad huh?” Max waited impatiently, blowing hair out of her face.

She felt his hand push the hair from her eyes. “You’ve never apologized before.” She watched his smile fade. “Did you mean it?”

“I’m sorry I’m stupid after getting shot.” She glared at him, watching the conflict in his eyes. Even in apology, she was defiant. “I didn’t want you dead after everything we’ve been through.”

She felt the bed shift, realizing that he’d left the chair. She felt him pull her close, the warmth of his body instantly soothing her. “After everything we’ve been through, I’m not dying.”

“Promise?” She searched his eyes, exhausted and desperate for reassurance.

“Yeah.” He dropped his forehead on hers. “And you don’t die on me either.” He cupped her face, looking deep into her eyes, waiting for her panic to subside. “Deal?”

“Deal,” whispered Max, breathing in his scent, savoring his closeness.

* * *

It was past midnight. Alec was lying next to Max, wide awake, his mind unwilling to shut down. Except for the ridiculous “You should have left me” conversation—they still hadn’t talked. Nothing was resolved. Nothing was clear. He wanted to bang his head against the wall—but that would only wake Max up.

He did hear her sigh as she curled up against him. He felt her hand skim down the side of his body as she settled in. He felt his body responding—she was arousing him, and she wasn’t even trying. His hand curled into a fist. 

How was he supposed to continue like this?

* * *

Max felt his body stiffen. She wasn’t fully awake, but something was wrong. Slowly her eyes opened, taking in the darkness, feeling the heavy tension in the air.

Sleepy brown eyes collided with piercing green eyes. Alec was angry. Why?

“Are you ok?” Max pushed the hair from his eyes and cupped his cheek.

“No.” Alec struggled to control his temper. Carefully, he took her hand off his face. “I’m really not.”

“Why?” Surprised, Max slowly untangled herself from his body. She sat up and waited.

“I need to know Max.” He searched her face, looking for some sign. “Is there an us? Are we real?”

Silence.

* * *

Alec clenched his jaw. What was he expecting anyway? Apparently the drugs she got for him—they were that good. He wasn’t sure what was real anymore.

He could go back to being friends—maybe.

This hurt more than he thought it would.

Or maybe he hadn’t considered her rejection.

He really was stupid.

* * *

Alec was sitting so close to her, but the distance—he was so far away. 

Why? Did he not remember? Did she do something to make him question her?

She drew up her knees and hugged them tight. She dropped her forehead and started counting slow breaths. She forced herself to calm down. Her temper was legendary. Even she knew she had a short fuse—except, it was more like she had no fuse—she just automatically blew up.

So she took a few moments of silence.

She didn’t realize that Alec already decided what that silence meant.

* * *

Max watched Alec sit up and swing his legs over the bed, careful not to touch her. His back was rigid and straight. His hands gripped the edge of the mattress, sheets crumpled beneath his fingers. Slowly, deliberately, he released the sheets, white knuckles easing.

She studied his back, his wide shoulders, his head bowed. Just as she reached out to touch him, Alec stood up and stepped away from her. He was halfway across the room, already by the window. He pulled on his jeans, zipped them, and left the top unbuttoned. _Maybe he’d get around to it._ Even while Max smiled at the thought, she realized that Alec still hadn’t spoken. She had been distracted watching him—

_Was he leaving her?  
_

* * *

Alec let his forehead rest on the cold window, studying the darkness outside, wanting to feel something besides the ache in his heart. His hands always steady, now clenched and unclenched, wanting to break something, feel some actual pain—because all the chaos and uncertainty inside of him—it was unraveling him.

After everything they’d been through—were they done? With just a few words—were they too broken then? Too damaged to figure this out?

* * *

Max stood a few feet behind him, listening to his ragged breathing. She watched his face in the reflection of the window. Those perfect hazel eyes—were lifeless. Had she done this to him?

No. He wasn’t allowed to give up. If Renfro and White and the government—and everyone for that matter—couldn’t tear them apart—then why were they hurting each other like this? Why was she so afraid to tell Alec anything? 

Was she overthinking it? God, she was so stupid sometimes.

* * *

Alec froze when he felt Max wrap her arms around his waist. She pulled him close and laid her cheek on his back.

“Max, it’s ok. You don’t have to—“ Alec broke off when he felt her hands move up his chest.

He felt her nose tickle his back, felt her breath on his body—felt her kiss her way up his spine. 

He shivered. Now he was confused to hell. Hadn’t she already rejected him? What was this then?

“Please Max—“ He tried again, except this time her hands crept down his body, skimming his abdomen, settling just inside his waistband, her fingers dangerously close to—he sucked in his breath. What was she doing?

Before she went any deeper into his pants—he captured both of her hands with his right hand, pressing them into his body, willing her to stop.

He placed his other hand against the window, trying to steady himself.

He felt her drop a feather light kiss at the base of his neck, right on his barcode. Then more kisses trailed up, and up, until she reached his earlobe, where she paused.

And finally, he heard Max’s voice, smooth, even, husky. 

“Yes.”

* * *

Max felt Alec release the tension in his body.

She felt him release her hands.

She watched his face in the reflection, saw him open his eyes—green and gold swirling with desire and something dangerous.

He met her gaze evenly. It didn’t register. She almost smiled. Then she found herself slammed across the room, Alec’s hungry mouth on hers, his hands cupping her face. She felt his need—and Max reveled in it.

She felt her head bang against the wall, and she didn’t care. She wrapped her legs around his waist. She couldn’t stop the moan from escaping her mouth. She couldn’t stop her hands from roaming first his chest, then down his back, pulling at his jeans. 

She wanted to feel him, everywhere, all of him, on her, around her, in her.

It hit with unexpected clarity. This then is what she wanted—to lose control with Alec, to Alec.

She gripped his hands, forcing Alec to slow down. He leaned his forehead on hers, breathing roughly, mouth parted. She touched his cheek, her thumb caressing his bottom lip.

“And you, Alec?” 

She didn’t notice his eyes change to an unusual gold in response. She was too busy staring at his mouth, wide and perfectly shaped. But she felt his arms tighten. She heard him growl. He turned his face until his mouth caught her wandering thumb, sucking in punishment.

Max gasped, his touch like electricity going through her. And for the first time—she felt it. She felt Alec’s raw power. It was running through his entire body, but he’d always held himself back, restrained the power. All those times then, he’d let her win. Repeatedly, consistently, he was careful with her—reacted just enough, but never to overwhelm her.

She let this little bit of knowledge sink in. He would never admit it, and she would never ask. When she finally looked up to meet his piercing gaze, his next words made her tremble.

“You are mine.” Just the power of his voice alone—deep and rich—it was enough to undo her. 

Overcome, Max closed her eyes and surrendered.

* * *

Alec forgot to breathe. He watched transfixed as she submitted to his dominance. Her entire body relaxed against him, her head against his, waiting for him—

Had she ever trusted him like this?

It was more than he could bear. Every nerve cell in his body was alive—calling out for Max, and only Max. He blinked every doubt out of his mind. Max was his.

Roughly, he took the mouth she offered. He ripped off her tank top. He pulled at her hair, breaking the kiss, exposing her neck. He breathed in her scent, taking in her swollen lips, evidence of his hunger for her.

He wasn’t sure when he lost his jeans. He only knew that her hands, those small but strong hands, were holding his ass, nails digging in. He kissed her neck, licking and sucking, and probably leaving a hickey. She would kick him for that later, but he didn’t care.

* * *

So much, just so much to feel—Max was spiraling out of control. Her hands moved from that very firm and muscular ass—up that smooth and strong back. Alec was doing something with his tongue, moving up her neck, and it felt so good, and his hands were skimming the sides of her chest, his thumbs brushing her nipples almost carelessly—who was moaning so loudly?

Was that her?

She felt his hands settle at her waist—and stop.

Then everything stopped. No more kisses. No more caresses. 

Her mind stuttered. _What, what, what?_

* * *

It pained him to stop. He heard her object, her breathing coming in low and hard.

He drank in the sight of an unbridled Max, cheeks flushed, lips swollen, eyes still closed. 

It took everything he had—to wait for her eyes to finally open.

* * *

She had a hard time focusing, but she heard his voice.

“Look at me.”

She didn’t. Even in the throes of ecstasy, Max found her stubborn streak. She looked down the length of her body, found her legs still wrapped around his waist, found his hands still at her waist—just resting. Was he tired—already?

That seemed all kinds of wrong.

She wiggled her hips. Maybe he needed encouragement?

* * *

He gritted his teeth. Max was not making this easy for him. 

Carefully, he lifted her off him and placed her on the floor. He heard her whimper in protest. Even as she reached out to him, he caught both of her hands in one hand. He pushed her against the wall, her arms trapped overhead, her fingers intertwined with his. With his other hand, he touched her face, fingers moving behind her head, behind her ear, his thumb lingering on her bottom lip, before forcing her mouth open.

Slowly, he left the warmth of her mouth, massaging fingers down her neck. He watched her lean into his touch, listened to her breath hitch, felt her arms straining against him. He traced her collarbone, then spread his fingers and moved lower, until he captured one breast in his palm. His thumb circled her nipple, just circled—and he watched her entire body arch toward him. His hand continued its journey, moving lower still, fingers tracing the lower curve of her back, before settling on her firm and lush ass.

He pulled her against his body and leaned in close, inhaling the very addicting scent of Max.

“Tell me what you want Max.”

He heard her moan his name. And finally, she opened her eyes—and he saw what he needed—Max welcoming the desire, Max yielding to him.

“Make me yours.”

And his mind snapped. He was done waiting.

* * *

As Max breathed the words, she felt the subtle shift in Alec, felt his doubts, his concerns—his words—just evaporate. She closed her eyes in wicked anticipation.

_Finally.  
_

* * *

He captured her mouth in a rough kiss—and in one swift movement, he lifted her hips, and slammed hard into her. He almost lost his balance, it felt that good—and right.

He heard her cry out his name, heard her gasp for more—so he did. With each thrust, he banged Max into the wall. There was nothing pretty, nothing easy, and nothing slow. It was hard and fast and not gentle at all.

He heard Max scream his name as she came apart. Her legs squeezed him tight as her nails dug into his back. He welcomed the pain. And with the last of his strength, he thrust up and hard and lost control, felt his own release explode through his entire body.

It was exhilarating. And mind numbing. It was everything and more.


	8. Right

Chapter 7 – Right 

At one point, Alec woke to find himself tied up to the headboard. He wasn’t even sure how they’d made it back to the bed. Last he remembered, they were on the other side of the room. He eyed the Max-sized hole in the wall near the door. There, that was proof then—he had not imagined the mind-blowing sex.

Still, it was a distance from the front door to the bed. In fact, his gaze wandered to the small living room—and found the coffee table. It was decimated, wooden pieces scattered on the floor. So that annoying pain in his ass (literally) was probably a splinter in his cheek.

“You can go back to sleep.” Max murmured against his chest, before slowly raising herself up. 

“Did you zip tie me?” Alec raised an eyebrow, watching her in amusement.

“Maybe.” Max hummed as swung a knee over him, her hips carefully aligned above his.

He pulled experimentally, testing the strength of the wooden slats on the headboard. “You know, I can break this.”

“Or you can just enjoy the ride.” And Max slammed down, jarring the both of them with the force of it. She watched him hiss in surprise and pleasure. 

“Ok.” He managed to gasp, even as his mind stuttered with the sheer bliss of being inside Max. “But you don’t need ties.” He smiled playfully when she paused. “You can ride me anytime.”

“Oh Alec.” She looked at him, eyes half open, lips parted in a small smile. “I really wasn’t asking your permission.”

* * *

Max leaned forward, her tongue teasing his mouth open. She kissed him long and slow. She loved the feel of his mouth on hers, the smoothness of his lips, the warmth of his tongue, the way he made her tingle—the way he responded, sometimes so gentle, sometimes not—sometimes playful, sometimes serious—it was all exciting and new to her.

She smiled into his mouth, pulling at his bottom lip, nipping just a little. Then she traced his lips with her tongue, heard him groan—before she invaded again, taking the kiss deeper, making it last longer than before. 

How long could he hold his breath? When would he have to come up for air?

Whatever. Another benefit of all this kissing—one Alec had yet to figure out—he was quiet.

Max had finally learned the secret to making Alec shut up.

* * *

Had anyone ever kissed him this long?

He loved her mouth, loved what she was doing with it—to him. He was pretty sure she was experimenting on him—wanted to see if he could last as long as she did. It didn’t seem like she was about to stop anytime soon.

And because it was Max, and because he didn’t need to win—he took a small breath, let her hear it. He watched her smile in satisfaction, watched her brown eyes deepen with passion—and because she wasn’t done yet, she kissed him again, this time nibbling on his bottom lip.

He closed his eyes and gave in to her. If she wanted to be in charge, so be it.

* * *

Her hand moved from behind his head, down his neck, fingers caressing his shoulder. She moved her hand over his chest, flicking a nipple, before moving down his abdomen, and curving around to settle on his backside.

Firm and strong, all muscle, smooth flesh—every inch of the delectable Alec—and very susceptible to her touch apparently. She felt his body shudder with each caress.

The certainty of it crept up on her—while she was exploring his body and kissing him senseless.

Alec was hers. Did he want her this much too?

* * *

Vaguely, Alec realized she’d just imitated his journey down her body before he’d claimed her. Then Max stilled, and he forced his eyes open. 

“Tell me what you want Alec.”

He was done playing. With a sharp tug, he broke the wooden slats and felt his arms come free. His hands grabbed her hips, and it was all he could do not to drive up into her.

“Just you Max. Only you.”

She came down just as he thrust up into her. He felt his eyes roll back in the absolute rightness of it. When he opened his eyes, her head was thrown back, in total abandonment of the moment. He felt her cup him, caress him, just as she moved her hips to her own rhythm. He had to grind his teeth to avoid coming too soon.

Goddammit. Max was going to kill him with sex.

Not that he was complaining.

* * *

He turned his head and found Max’s foot in his face. Was she upside down? Or was he?

“Were you just going to leaving me hanging off the bed?” She sounded annoyed.

Alec grunted. “Didn’t even notice.” He smacked the very delectable backside so close to him. “I’m very happy with the view.”

He caught her ankle before she could kick him in the face.

“Do you always wake up cranky?” He almost laughed when she growled at him. Then he realized that she really was grumpy. So he scrambled and pounced on her before she could flip over and beat him senseless.

“Dammit. You’re heavy Alec.” Her voice was muffled against the mattress. She wiggled her ass against his groin, trying to shove him off.

He sucked in his breath. All he could think was— _again. Do it again_.

He kissed her shoulder, the back of her neck, and lingered by her ear. “I can help you be—less cranky.” He sucked on her earlobe, and listened to her moan.

She answered by raising her hips, her face still buried in the sheets.

His hands skimmed up her sides, cupping her breasts, fitting himself against her hips. One hand moved over her belly, stroking lower, felt her ready for him. His other hand held onto her hip, steadying himself, poised for another round of sweaty madness.

If it was going to be death by sex, he was taking Max down with him.

* * *

Max opened her eyes slowly, her entire body aching from last night’s activities. Alec was lying on his stomach, his elbow in her face. _How rude._ She shoved his arm away, barely noticing his grunt. What time was it?

And when she looked out the window, she gasped in surprise. 

_Was that the sunset—again?_  
  
So, it had been over 48 hours of wicked, naughty, depraved sex?

She felt the soreness in her body, and stretching her arms overhead, arching her back, she wondered—how long could they keep this up?

She came up blank.

Whatever. She wanted more. She wanted Alec.

She traced her fingers over his back, lazily spelling her name. Already planning how to make Alec shout her name in ecstasy.

* * *

“So.” Alec kissed her with exaggerated noises. “We’re good at this.”

“Yeah.” Max studied him. “I guess Renfro was right. We’re breeding partners after all.”

Alec opened and closed his mouth, words failing him. What was this? Was he supposed to reply? Wait for more explanation?

He glanced at her—and she seemed thoughtful, and content to be quiet. It really wasn’t helping at all.

“Why Max?” He watched Max, unclear and not liking this conversation one bit. “Why now?”

“Just—“ Max took his hand in hers, rubbing her thumb across his palm. “We’re supposed to be like this.” She took a deep breath. “We were made for each other.”

* * *

When Max got like this, it was enough for Alec to have a seizure. He was almost certain she was about to go off the deep end—and he wasn’t sure if he could stop her—or if he would fall in first.

And as he mentally catalogued every swear word (in every language he knew)—he waited for the other shoe to drop. More than two days (and nights) of mindless (and mind-blowing) sex—and it was time to pay in blood.

He wasn’t ready for this.

* * *

Max continued to caress his hand, even though she felt the tension run through his body. He was worried. 

“I don’t know how or why Renfro chose you for me.” Max paused, searching out his face. “But Renfro—“

She watched Alec close his eyes, wait for the blow. It was deceptive. Alec so calm, letting her hold his one hand—but his other hand, it was clenching and unclenching, just beyond her vision.

“But Renfro knew.” Max captured his other hand, forcing his fist open, linking her fingers through. She waited for his gaze to meet hers. “Renfro was right.”

“So because she was right, you love me less?” And she watched Alec flinch before he turned away. He hadn’t meant to say anything. He’d meant to blow her off.

She said nothing as she watched Alec struggle with his next words.

* * *

Goddammit. Did he really say that? Out loud?

Max was going to say that none of this was real. That it was just some stupid biochemical reaction between the two of them.

How was he going to convince her that everything they felt was real?

After being on such of high, from feeling so loved—and now, dropping so low, feeling so uncertain—

Now what?

* * *

She watched him try to wrestle his emotions in check. She hadn’t realized that just a few words would send him into a tailspin.

It was almost comical, except he seemed to be so upset. And if she would have laughed at his discomfort just last month, today she wanted to ease his pain.

* * *

When he felt her arms wrap around him, her touch did what nothing else could. He felt his breathing even out. He felt his mind calm down. And finally, his heartbeat slowed—and his heart stopped hurting.

“How do I love you less?” He felt her kiss his shoulder and press against him. 

She paused, her hands seeking his, finding his fingers, gently massaging. She intertwined their fingers, enjoying the feel of his hands, liking the contrast in their skin tones.

“Even if you annoy me, and don’t listen to me, or just need general ass-saving.” Max tightened her grip. “I’m still here. With you.”

Alec closed his eyes, leaned into her embrace, feeling the ache slowly subside.

“I’m saying, so what if she’s right.” She dropped her head on his shoulder, inhaling his scent. “Look at us. Freak science experiments—stronger, faster, smarter. Unnatural.” She turned to face him. “Are we any less?”

“I don’t know if we’re really breeding partners. I know you were assigned to me—but physically compatible?” She shrugged. “I didn’t think about it. Honestly, you pretty much said you were compatible with everyone right?”

She watched Alec wince.

“I’m just saying—“ Max paused, trying to slow down her words, unsure if anything was making sense. “Renfro talking, assigning us to each other—so what?”

Alec sat unmoving on the bed. Carefully, she climbed over him, knees on either side, gently straddling him. She held his face in her hands, forcing him to make eye contact with her. “Hey.”

“We fight, we make up, we drive each other crazy. But every time I’m with you—it feels good. It feels right. If tomorrow were my last day, I would still choose you.” She closed her eyes and leaned into him. 

She whispered her next words, low and shaky. “Would you choose me too?”

* * *

Alec felt the weight of burden release from his shoulders. He felt his heart soar free. Did Max really not know? 

It made him smile though, to know that he wasn’t the only one who felt like a teenage idiot.

So he did what felt right to him. Gave his heart freely, openly—and with joy.

“Always Max.” He pulled her tight. “You’re the only one for me.”

* * *

Max sagged in relief, just as Alec let his head fall forward. She smoothed his hair down, then kissed the top of his head.

“You got a nice rack.” Alec nuzzled deeper into her chest, even as Max smacked him.

* * *

He closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of Max in front of him, near him, all around him. He even enjoyed when she hit him, not that he would ever admit that.

So Renfro was right. 

He thought she had been about to break his heart. And with just the right words, with a touch of tenderness—she’d manage to heal his soul, offer to love him despite all the bad he’d done, offer to stand by him, even with all the uncertainty and danger surrounding them.

He raised his head, reluctant to leave the comfort of Max’s chest. Then he touched his forehead on hers, rubbing his nose on hers. Slowly, cupping her face in his hands, his thumbs gently tracing her cheekbones, he touched his mouth to hers, offering the same love and commitment.

“You make my world right. Since the first day you kicked me across the cell—I knew you were it.”


	9. Risk

Chapter 8 – Risk 

Max looked around the room, surveying the damage. The coffee table was long dead, the door was hanging on by one hinge, and the walls had numerous body-shaped dents. Broken bits of wood from the coffee table and random chunks of drywall littered the floor.

“We killed the room Alec.”

He snorted in protest. “I can’t help how much you want me. You couldn’t keep your hands to yourself.” He was still lying flat on his stomach, unable to move. “I’m lucky I survived all your demands.”

Max smiled, taking in the sight of Alec’s strong back and delectable ass just barely covered in bed sheets. They were twisted all around him, his feet hanging off the bed, one arm dangling off the side.

She walked over to the bed, kneeling down, one hand pushing bed sheets off his back. She kissed his forehead and waited for his eyes to open.

“Can I go back to sleep?” Alec opened just one eye. “I’m exhausted woman. Go away.”

Max smacked his ass. Hard.

Alec yelped in surprise. “I thought you loved me! I need sleep. I do not have shark DNA.”

“I love you on Tuesdays. Only.” Max grinned with mischief.

“What! It’s—“ Alec paused, thinking hard. “It’s Wednesday! Do I have to wait a full week before you’re nice again?”

It was like nothing had changed. Except everything had. They still fought, bickering about stupid things, blaming each other, and loving each other anyway.

* * *

Max stepped out of the room, listening carefully. Alec had changed motels when she’d been shot. She still wasn’t sure of their location. She had planned to ask him, but he’d put up such a fuss when she woke him—and well, she’d given up. 

Or maybe, she just enjoyed looking at him, half asleep and outraged, his body stretched out in all its perfectly sculpted glory. 

Maybe she got distracted and forgot to ask him.

* * *

The motel was smack in the middle of grim and dreary. The streets were neglected with potholes, trash was everywhere—and people were nowhere.

She stayed still in the shadows, closed her eyes, and let her senses take over. She heard only silence. And more, she felt nothing. The town, at least this part of it, was abandoned.

Slowly, she straightened, pushing off the vent on the rooftop, scanning the buildings around her, doing a full rotation. If she was right about Alec, he would have kept a clean perimeter at least a mile out. She should be safe for that distance anyway.

The next building was about 12 yards away, with a two-foot drop. Max breathed deep and counted to three. She took a running leap, and started blurring from rooftop to rooftop.

* * *

Alec jolted out of his sleep. Something was off. He shook his head, trying to get his bearings.

There—he heard something—something light. That was the first time in days that he’d heard anything outside of the motel.

He glanced out the window and caught the movement.

Goddammit! Was that Max blurring over buildings?

* * *

Medford. They were in Oregon, but just barely. Medford was basically the last town before crossing over into California. She hadn’t even realized they’d left Washington. All the gloomy skies and persistent rain made it all look the same.

Max sensed Alec’s presence before she heard him. And because he wasn’t in front of her, that meant he was behind her—somewhere. And even though she was standing near the edge of the roof, she closed her eyes and let herself fall backward.

* * *

Alec’s smile faded when he realized that Max was falling backward—again.

Did she enjoy giving him a heart attack?

He caught her, his arms winding around automatically, and he sank to his knees.

* * *

Max smiled, enjoying his closeness, thrilled that he’d caught her again. She found herself cradled on his lap, his arms tight around her.

When she opened her eyes, she wasn’t prepared for the intensity of his green eyes. Was he mad at her?

* * *

Alec had a string of curse words at the ready. But when she opened her eyes, bright with such joy, he couldn’t do it.

So he leaned over and kissed her instead—slow and sweet, his mouth moving over hers, his breathing rough. Then he touched his forehead to hers and quietly he spoke, his deep voice breaking with emotion.

“Please stop. Don’t do that again.” He cupped her face in his hands. “What if I’m too slow? What if I don’t catch you?”

* * *

Carefully, Max sat up, hearing what he wasn’t saying. He wouldn’t accuse her of being stupid, of trying to test him, of anything really.

He would take the blame, as he always did. He would protect her. 

“But you always catch me.” Max tried to lighten the mood. “I’m not worried.”

She watched his eyes darken with something fierce. She heard him grind his teeth. She watched him grimace.

Then she watched him bow his head in defeat. 

Still he said nothing.

* * *

Alec wanted to groan in frustration. As usual, Max wasn’t getting it. He just wanted her to be safe, to stop taking these risks, to slow down a bit.

They had enough people coming after them. Was it possible for her not to place herself in danger?

He didn’t want to fight and cause a rift between them. But he wasn’t going to be quiet if her safety was at stake.

* * *

Max watched the conflict in his face, felt the tension running through his body. He should have exploded already. But he kept his temper in check.

She had to admire his resolve. She definitely would have snapped by now, accused him of being a dumbass, taking unnecessary risks. Her smile faded. That’s what she was doing? Scaring him with her carelessness?

And when it became clear, she stilled. She could admit that love wasn’t a game. That Alec had nothing to prove. That she already knew to what depths he would go. She already knew how far she would go. How many bullets had they taken for each other? How many times had they been captured, tortured, been on the brink of death?

She didn’t know. She didn’t need to know.

It was enough that he was asking.

* * *

Alec tried to slow down his heartbeat. He forced his breathing back to normal. He already knew that he couldn’t make Max do anything. She’d have to want it first. Could she give him what he asked?

* * *

Max took both of his hands, intertwining their fingers, loving the feel of his skin on hers, even a simple touch like this. It was enough. It was so much.

“You asked so nicely.” Max rubbed her nose against his. “And even though it’s not Tuesday—my answer is yes. I’ll stop falling backwards like an idiot.”

* * *

Alec laughed in surprise. Had Max just given in? Agreed not to take any more risks? 

“Thank you dammit. I needed a win today.” Then he turned serious. “I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you. I’m already stupid when you’re not around to keep me in line.”

* * *

Alec’s entire face lit up when he smiled like that. From the crinkles at his eyes, those green and gold colors sparkling with a contagious kind of joy—then to look at his mouth, smooth lips stretched into a wide smile that promised mischief—

Sometimes it actually hurt to look at him. Max closed her eyes, committing his perfect beauty to memory. But really, what made Alec so special were his many flaws, his funny little quirks, his unnatural love for pork rinds and music videos—

Max stopped breathing. What if one day she was too late to catch him? 

_What was life without Alec?  
_

* * *

Alec watched confused as Max went from happiness to worry in no time at all. He watched her smile dim and her eyes close.

He touched her cheek. “Hey. What happened?” He pressed a light kiss on her forehead. “Weren’t we good like five seconds ago?”

She didn’t answer. Max was somewhere else.

* * *

Max pushed the panic aside, trying to remember that no one was dead—yet. That maybe they had a good many years left.

She hated when she got this morbid. And she definitely hated feeling helpless. Which was likely why she made so many impulsive (and often questionable) decisions. She detested being on the sidelines, waiting for things to happen.

And when she would have gone even lower, worrying about things yet to come—something strange happened.

A gentle touch, a soothing voice, all deep and rumbly—then a warm embrace—Alec reminded her that she wasn’t alone. That she wasn’t going to be alone anymore.

Max sighed and let it go. She wasn’t sure how much time they had together, but she wasn’t about to torture herself with imagined anguish.

* * *

“We’re good.” Max blinked deliberately, finally meeting his gaze. “Just—what if I’m the slow one? Or I can’t find you? Or I can’t fix you? Then what?”

Alec tightened his embrace, resting his head on hers. “But you always find me, no matter how bad it gets. How many times have I been left for dead?” He paused when she shot him a dirty look. “Yeah, don’t answer that.”

He placed a light kiss on her forehead. “I’m just saying—you’ve never given up on me. Right?” He waited for her to acknowledge him.

Max only grunted.

“And we get into trouble when we don’t talk to each other—when we make assumptions—when we work against each other.” Alec cradled her face gently, looking deep into the brown eyes he loved so much. “But when we’re on the same page—when we talk—when we work together—” Alec took a deep breath, holding her gaze. “We’re unstoppable.”

“If we’re really together—if we’re as connected as I think we are—“ Alec found it hard to breathe—he really was putting himself on the line—and Max was so silent.

“Just—we’re great together. We make an awesome team.” Alec looked at Max, who hadn’t so much as blinked. “That’s all.”

Was she even listening?

* * *

Max let the soothing cadence of Alec’s voice wash over her. No one else had that deep, rich, timbre. He had the power to comfort her by sound alone—and she was ok with that. She closed her eyes and sank into his embrace.

Yes, they were good together. All this time fighting it, and the irony was—they were perfectly matched, perfectly balanced. Sometimes she was crazy and impetuous and altogether unreasonable. Sometimes, it was Alec. Whatever the case, they seemed to know when to switch roles. They seemed to know when to offer support, when to pull back, when to encourage, when to fight back. At least, they tried their best—which was all they could do really.

* * *

“Seriously Max?” Alec poked Max in the shoulder. She didn’t even flinch. Was she really asleep?

He narrowed his eyes, considering his next move. 

“I’m in the middle of a heartfelt—speech—and, and—“ Alec sputtered, rubbing his eyes with his palms. Then he flicked her nose in sheer annoyance. “You decide to nap?”

Was that a twitch? Was she trying hard not to—smirk?

* * *

Abruptly, Alec stood up, frustrated and needing to move. He started pacing back and forth in front of Max. He didn’t bother to look at her. 

It was too much. Was this all a joke?

* * *

Max landed in a messy heap, the back of her head thumping on the roof. She winced but didn’t otherwise react. She opened her eyes, taking in the grey clouds, the mostly hidden sun, and the random slivers of blue trying to peek through.

Slowly, she raised herself onto her elbows, her chin resting on her chest. She watched Alec run his hand through his already messed up hair. She watched him take his other hand and cover his entire face, muttering obscenities in something that sounded like Russian. He would stay still for a moment, then start pacing in front of her—back and forth—again and again.

Max watched his feet, observed his walking pattern, took in the length of his stride—and at just the right moment, she swept out her leg, connecting with his shin. She couldn’t stop the grin of triumph when he landed with a loud thud and more cursing. She thought he’d pop right back up, but he stayed down.

Apparently, he didn’t want to move either.

* * *

Did she just trip him? On purpose?

He figured he could get back up, but why?

If he stayed still, maybe he could force himself _not_ to throttle some sense into Max.

Right, it was safer not to move.

So he didn’t.

* * *

Max waited for Alec to say something. She counted the seconds in her head. By the time she reached 60, she decided she’d have to be the one to break the silence.

One minute was a long time for either of them to be quiet.

* * *

No, Alec wasn’t going to be the one to crack. He closed his eyes. He threw his arm over his face. He needed a time out.

Smack in the middle of the dirty roof, why not?

* * *

Max rolled right over him—and stopped until her entire body blanketed him. She took the arm covering his face and gently laid it to his side. He did not open his eyes. She took his face with both hands and placed her mouth over his. With just the lightest kiss, she felt him shiver in response.

When she looked at him, his green eyes were mere slits of doubt. His next words almost made her laugh, but he was so very serious, she managed to keep it in.

* * *

“You got a cruel streak in you.” His gaze did not falter. He did not smile. “You don’t get to kiss your way out of this.”

He watched Max open her mouth in protest, but he raised his hand to stop her. “I’m not done.”

She snapped her mouth shut. It surprised him actually.

“When I’m talking, you don’t get to sleep in the middle of it.” He glared at her. “No napping! Ever!”

She nodded slowly. Alec only glared more.

“So my question is—did you hear anything I said? Or do I have to start over?”

Alec raised an eyebrow and waited.

* * *

Max bit her lip, trying very hard to keep a straight face. She really ought to put him out of his misery.

Just—it was a dilemma really. Serious Alec—that was a sexy Alec. She just wanted to jump him and have her way with him. She wanted him to stop talking already. And she knew how to make him stop talking, but apparently, it was now against the rules to kiss and make up?

How dumb was that?

* * *

Alec narrowed his eyes, not trusting this turn of events. A quiet Max—that was a dangerous Max. She was busy biting her bottom lip, gauging his anger, staring at his mouth—and just altogether distracting him from his righteous moment.

He was about to lose the upper hand. Goddammit.

* * *

Max slowly raised her hand, waiting for Alec to acknowledge her. It was almost like school, waiting for the teacher to call on her.

Except Max never was splayed all over the teacher, waiting for some kind of gratification.

If he didn’t do something soon, she was not going to be held responsible for her actions.

She smiled at the possibilities.

* * *

Alec felt a chill run through his spine. This quiet—and now smiling—Max was making him nervous. Her eyes, deep chocolate brown—they were twinkling with—mirth?

And good grief, did she really just raise her hand?

* * *

She watched his discomfort blossom. She watched him stare at her hand, unable to decide his next move. He was trying very, very hard to stay mad at her.

She licked her lips in anticipation. Her smile only widened when she caught him watching her tongue, lingering on her mouth.

Patiently, her hand still in the air, she waited for him to meet her gaze.

* * *

Goddammit! Did she just catch him watching her mouth?

He was never going to live this down.

Didn’t he even know how to stay mad at this infuriating woman?

* * *

When Alec finally nodded at her, Max let out an exaggerated sigh of relief. She heard him snort, but she ignored him.

“Are you done?” Max blinked prettily at him. “May I speak now?”

She watched Alec clench his jaw. It only made her smile more.

“Just to be clear—“ Max finally put her hand down, but she let it rest on his chest. “No kissing?”

Alec only growled.

“That’s too bad.” Max kept her hand on his chest, but slowly, she inched her way across, and up his neck. She leaned in, burying her nose in the crook of his shoulder, her mouth so close to his skin—but not touching. She inhaled deep—she loved the scent of Alec—and she let her tongue gently caress his throat before she felt him shudder in response.

And because Max never liked rules anyway, she used her other hand to guide his face toward her, her thumb massaging from his cheek to his bottom lip—and this time taking a turn at pushing into his mouth. And when he opened just enough, Max bit his lip and kissed him deep.

* * *

Max never fought fair. He should know by now. He should, but he didn’t care. That was his problem. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to punish her. He wasn’t sure anymore.

Whatever. Let Max kiss him. He couldn’t remember why he was mad.

* * *

Max broke the kiss and laid her head on his chest, listening to his erratic heartbeat. When it finally slowed to a steady rhythm, she reached for his hands, linking their fingers, needing that specific contact. His hands always had a way of soothing her, his touch—it electrified and calmed her.

“I heard everything you said. We’re good together. Awesome—blah, blah, woof, woof.” 

She felt Alec stiffen. 

He didn’t like her summary so far?

* * *

“No—that’s just wrong Max.” Alec took a deep breath, already pushing Max off him. “You don’t get to just—dismiss me like that!”

Max only stared.

“It’s important, what I said.” He broke off. “I can’t believe you would just—“ And he couldn’t continue after that. His shoulders slumped as he shook his head in resignation.

Now what?

* * *

This time Max rolled over onto her back, her arm thrown over her face. She blinked up at the sky again, noting that the grey clouds had mostly diminished. The blue seemed to be overtaking the sky.

That was a good sign. Time to end the riddles. Poor Alec couldn’t read her mind, even if she expected him to.

* * *

“First off, I wasn’t done talking.” Max met his gaze calmly. “I waited until you finished, so you don’t get to interrupt me.”

Alec narrowed his eyes, but nodded brusquely.

Max stared at him, a good five feet away from her. He was sitting against the air vent, looking at her, his expression carefully blank. Except, she could tell—he was annoyed and hurt, and she didn’t blame him for it.

“I heard everything you said. I remember, word for word, your—“ Max paused. “Your heartfelt speech.” She wanted to touch him, but that would only distract her, so she let that idea go—for now at least.

“Every time you speak, your voice alone has the power to reach me—in a way that nothing does. Even if I don’t agree with what you’re saying—somehow, you know how to just be with me. Without me feeling less for my shortcomings—for my mistakes—for my failures. You can somehow see past all that, and love me anyway.” Max blinked back sudden tears. “You don’t have to do much. But what you do is enough. It’s so much. It’s all I need.”

“But I panicked.” Impatiently, Max rubbed at her eyes, wiping stubborn tears away.

“I thought of losing you—and it terrified me. And you held me, and talked me through—” Slowly she sat up, drawing up her knees in front of her.

“So I shut my eyes. Because I finally knew, and I felt this calm drift over me—and just stay.” She let her head fall back, closing her eyes to the sudden brilliance of the sun.

“You did that. You held me and let me know that we could do this. Because we were together.” She mind lingered on the last word—together. She never thought she’d be together with anyone. Logan was a failed relationship, if that even counted—and Alec, they had spent so much time fighting, she didn’t think it would ever change.

“I know you got mad at me last time—when I said you should have left me. But it’s true. You’re safer without me. We could probably survive separately—it would be hard for anyone to track us if we went in different directions. As it is, anyone knows that if you’re nearby, then I’m probably around the corner. It’s pretty easy to capture either one of us. We’re a liability to each other.” Max frowned, opening her eyes, looking for the clouds, but squinting against the sun instead.

“I think—what’s taken me a long time to understand—is that, we’re also assets to each other. We balance each other—complement each other. We come up with the dumbest ideas and make them work, somehow.” 

“You and I together—that’s a huge risk. But you make me come alive. Only you. I would take all the risks in the world if that meant you were in my life.”

“Even if you are the biggest pain in the ass.”

* * *

It was silent for a long time. Max didn’t bother counting the seconds. She said what she needed to—and it was up to Alec to respond—or not.

She glanced at him briefly, noting that he was still frozen in place. Maybe Alec needed time alone?

So she looked over her left shoulder, mentally cataloging the buildings between her and the chain link fence she’d seen earlier.

She could give him that time. All this soul searching was draining anyway.

* * *

Alec let the silence extend, let her words sink in. He’d heard the sincerity in her voice, the worry, the yearning.

He’d closed his eyes after she’d finished talking—relieved to know that he did matter to her—even if she had an awful tendency to make fun of him. Most of the time, he could handle it. But sometimes, he needed not to worry about her laughing at him.

He felt the subtle shift of movement. He opened his eyes just in time to see her fall backward off the roof.

* * *

Max took one final look at Alec, closed her eyes, and counting backwards, she opened her arms wide and let herself fall.

She loved this feeling—no restrictions, just falling free, and falling fast.

* * *

Alec blurred to the edge of the roof, cursing the stupidity of Max. Didn’t they just discuss unnecessary risks? Didn’t she just agree _not_ to fall backward like an idiot?

To make matters worse, he watched her twist mid-air, safely making it to the next building over. And like a little gymnast, she hit a perfect landing—and even bowed to him. Then she had the audacity to wink at him before blurring off to the next rooftop.

Alec really wished he hadn’t left his gun behind. He’d have shot her in the leg by now. If she had a bullet (or two) in her, she wouldn’t be jumping all over buildings—and pissing him off.

His eyes narrowed, as he watched her progress, noting her direction. Then he smiled.

He knew exactly where she was going.

* * *

Max hissed at her miscalculation. There were too many trees in front of her. She needed to be on top of the old office building. Maybe that would be close enough to the fence?

She counted three more rooftops before she’d be in position.

She didn’t notice Alec coming up on her nine o’clock.

* * *

Alec smiled grimly when he saw Max pause. He’d made the same mistake a few days ago. She was too far to make the leap. She’d have to readjust.

He knew the exact route she’d have to take.

* * *

Max smiled in anticipation. Just one more rooftop, then she’d be free.

Except—

She wasn’t expecting the entire weight of Alec to come crashing into her.

* * *

It was a tangle of arms and legs, as they rolled across the rooftop, with enough swearing between them to make a sailor blush.

“You almost knocked me off the rooftop!” Max yelled at him.

“I knocked you _back_ onto the rooftop!” Alec corrected her.

Max opened her mouth to contradict him—then she narrowed her eyes instead. She tilted her head, assessing her movements, going over the timing. “I had you beat. Where’d you come from?”

“Does it matter?” Alec gloated, his green eyes sparkling with merriment. “I caught you.”

Then Max stilled her entire body. And her whole face lit into a triumphant smile.

“See. That’s exactly my point.”

* * *

When they collided mid-air, Alec had taken the brunt of the fall. He wrapped his arms and legs around her body, protecting her from hitting the rough concrete of the roof. He knew even before they stopped their momentum, that he would be the one with bruises and cuts on his body. He knew and he didn’t care. He didn’t want Max hurt. He just wanted her to stop running from him.

When they finally stopped moving, Alec was on the bottom, with Max sprawled all over him. He thought she’d jump off him and start yelling him.

Instead, she stayed just where she was—then started yelling at him.

* * *

Alec watched her smile, her eyes twinkling with delight. So she made a point, did she? Alec grunted before he rolled them and switched positions. Now Max was on the bottom this time. Much better. Maybe he’d crush her into submission?

She started wiggling in protest. She might have called him a big oaf, but he wasn’t paying attention. He had at least 50 pounds of solid muscle over her. She wasn’t going anywhere.

“Are you never going to let me win an argument?” Alec sighed with mock resignation.

“I can’t help that you’re always wrong!” Max narrowed her eyes at him, annoyed that she was trapped under his body. She couldn’t even move her arms to hit him. It seemed unfair.

“Always Max?” Alec stilled, waiting for her response. And when she said nothing, he started nuzzling her neck, deliberately lingering at the sensitive spot behind her ear.

“No kissing!” Max squealed when she felt his mouth against her nape.

“You’re impossible, you know that?” Alec held her tight, rubbing his nose against hers. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Love me anyway?” Max blinked at him, big brown eyes hopeful.

“Always.” And Alec made the promise, knowing that he would keep it, knowing that nothing would break them apart.


	10. Crash

Chapter 9 – Crash 

The honeymoon was over. For the first time in days, Max and Alec weren’t speaking.

Max was curled away from him, clutching a lumpy pillow—and pretending to sleep. But he could read the tension in her body. And he could feel her stiffen up when he tried to draw her close.

Still, he tightened his arms around her, buried his face into her neck, nuzzling her barcode. He listened to her ragged breathing, knowing that she wouldn’t speak first.

So he was the one who broke the silence.

“We can’t keep hiding out. We need to go back. End this once and for all.”

* * *

Max had known that this day would come. When he would start to question it all. When he would need to resolve everything. When he would disagree with her decisions.

She closed her eyes, wishing they had a clean slate, that they were already safe—and forgotten by everyone. She could feel the rift between them, and the only way to cross that distance would be to make the first move.

Alec wouldn’t do it. He’d gone along with her for weeks now. He hadn’t agreed with some of her methods, but he’d been with her all the way.

As they had found their way to each other, it had been so deeply satisfying—and incredibly bittersweet too. Because she had known, even before he did, that Alec wouldn’t want to stay in their bubble of happiness. That he would need to confront the dangers and betrayals that forced them away from Seattle.

She did not need to go back. She understood the price of it all.

Did Alec understand?

She had chosen him repeatedly, unwittingly, every single time.

Wasn’t that enough?

* * *

“Listen Max.” Alec rubbed his face tiredly. “I got us into this mess. I’ll get us out. Just please—talk to me.”

Max finally looked at him. She would give him this, what answers she did have.

“I asked Mole to help—and he blew me off. And when I found you—Bessie was also there.” She leaned against the headboard, away from him, staring at the ceiling. “Nothing makes sense, and I’m not sure I care anymore.”

Alec only frowned in confusion. “Who the hell is Bessie? Why do we care about some girl?”

Max’s unexpected laugh sounded hollow.

“Bessie is Logan’s car.”

* * *

“I don’t remember Max.” Alec was frustrated. He was standing by the window, his back to her. 

“I know.” Max moved to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. She rubbed her cheek against his back. “I don’t know why you met him. I don’t know why everyone ended up at that warehouse. I don’t know why no one helped me rescue you. I know even less than you.”

Slowly, Alec turned in her arms, her warm body fitting perfectly against his. He knew she was hurting. That she still wasn’t over finding him nearly dead.

“Why can’t we leave it alone?” Max buried her face into his chest, not wanting to look at his eyes, knowing it would be more gold than green. When he was this intense, his eyes changed, his emotions brimming over.

“Since when do we do that?” Alec sniffed her hair, taking in her scent, already distracted. He felt her hands roaming down his back and toward his jeans.

“Since now we got everything to lose.” Max unbuttoned his jeans, ignoring his quick intake of breath. If they were about to do something stupid, like go back to Seattle—and die—then she would enjoy all the time left with Alec.

“We have each other. Why can’t that be enough?” She left her hands at his waist, stroking wherever she could reach, savoring the firm muscles and smooth skin.

“Is it backwards that I’m worried about everyone else—and you’re not?” Alec blinked at her, trying very hard not to react to her wandering hands. He wasn’t about to stop her. He wanted her to touch him. But he also wanted her to acknowledge his needs. And he needed to know what happened back in Seattle.

“What are you saying?” Max had already taken off his shirt and tossed it onto the floor. She ran her hands up his chest, loving the way he felt, listening to his heartbeat go fast, knowing that his jeans were now too tight.

“That I’m being selfish?” Max kissed him lightly on the mouth, wondering if he would respond. Then she trailed more kisses on his chest, stopping on scars still visible. She felt his arms tighten around her.

Alec said nothing.

* * *

Max was always fighting dirty. And right now, she had that look in her eyes, when she knew she was about to win.

Christ, the things she did with her hands, with her mouth—and now she was gyrating her entire body against him.

He’d always want her. Didn’t she know that yet? She didn’t need to resort to this. Not that he was complaining, but dammit. He didn’t want her to turn their lovemaking into some elaborate game of manipulation. He needed answers. He didn’t want her to kiss him into silence.

* * *

“Yes. I am selfish. I want you alive. And if we go back, then it’s a death sentence.” Even while she made her admission, her hands kept moving. She had managed to strip Alec completely bare. He was standing there, fully erect and unmoving.

So he was going to be stubborn, was he?

Max stepped away and slowly peeled off her tank top. Then she shimmied out of her tight jeans like they were nothing at all. She stood still, letting her gaze linger on him, eyes flickering first up—then down—the entire length of his body. From the wide shoulders, to the defined chest—to the sculpted abs and the strong thighs—everything, all of Alec was a work of art. Even he knew it.

“So if we’re going on this suicide mission—then give me tonight.” Max removed the last bits of silk, the bra and panties falling to the ground without protest. “Make me forget my name.” And when she finally met his gaze, Max took an involuntary step back, reading the sudden change in Alec’s eyes. He was radiating more danger than she was expecting.

It was exciting.

* * *

Alec’s mind snapped. _Was that a challenge?_

He lifted her with no effort and slammed hard into her. He felt her legs wrap around him, even as her entire body shuddered in response. He felt her lean back, exposing her neck, trusting him, loving him. He watched the desire bright in her eyes—before she closed them and surrendered control. His fingers tangled with her long hair, as he skimmed her hips and gripped her tightly, probably leaving bruises on her ass.

He took her mouth, roughly, enjoying her gasp of surprise.

What? Was she expecting polite sex?

* * *

Max had no idea how much time had passed. So she just sagged against Alec, her head cradled against his shoulder, her body still shaking from the aftershocks. She felt him nuzzle the top of her head, his chest heaving, his breathing harsh.

Her fingers loosely curled against his neck, lingering on his barcode. She felt his pulse, his heart beating fast, his life force a steadying beacon for her.

She urged his head down, until his mouth lowered, just above hers. “Gets better every time.” She was usually stingy with compliments—but dammit, Alec knew how to make her body sing. And this, this was all new to her. She never knew that she could feel such pleasure—and need.

Then she watched his slow smile, his green eyes swirling with gold, mischief and male pride mixing. And before he kissed her, she heard his whisper, heard the smirk even.

“Did it work? Did you forget your name?”

* * *

Alec could feel Max staring daggers into his back. She’d said nothing for the last five minutes. The tension was heavy, and it was only getting worse. Still, he walked toward the delivery truck hidden in the brush. She wasn’t happy about today, even though she had agreed to it. Their love had been wild and desperate the night before—and he had hated that they had woken up to this. Max quiet and reserved, worried about returning to Seattle, certain he’d get hurt again.

“I never thanked you for saving my ass.” Alec nodded to his Duke nestled in the back of the truck. “And for saving my bike too.”

He watched Max shrug, uneasy with his words. “No big.”

“It is a big deal.” He waited while she got her feelings under control. “You always come through for me.”

She sniffed, unwilling to admit he was right. And her next words surprised him.

“I would give up all the great sex just to have you alive.”

Alec caught her gaze, those big brown eyes solemn. He took her hand, tugging her close, until she was molded against him. His hands traveled up and down her back, massaging everywhere, lingering on her curves, enjoying her little tremors. Then he cupped her face, his thumbs stroking and soothing, before he kissed her deeply. He leaned his forehead against hers, inhaling her scent, loving the feel of her against him.

“Well, I’m not giving up the great sex. I want you every damn day—and I don’t want to worry about someone killing us tomorrow. I want it all Max.”

Her eyes might have widened, but she remained silent.

He sighed, knowing her stubborn streak had kicked in, so he let it go. He rubbed his nose against hers before he pressed a light kiss on her mouth—and stepped away. He unloaded his bike, carefully pushing it next to the parked Ninja, already putting his shades on.

“Let’s go for a quick ride. Unwind.”

 _Click, click, click._  
  
Alec started swearing when he couldn’t turn the engine. And for some reason, he thought he heard her snicker. He looked up quickly, and he could have sworn her mouth was twitching.

“Are you smiling?” Alec eyed her suspiciously. Then, growling impatiently—

“Why won’t my bike start?”

* * *

Max was leaning against the delivery truck, a blissful smile on her face. She loved when he lost control, his hands running through his hair, his words colorful and agitated. He was so skilled at swearing, he had seamlessly switched languages before she noticed that his Russian had morphed to French—and into Arabic? She wasn’t sure. She didn’t care. The sound of his deep voice always connected, always touched her—reaching her, capturing her.

The sudden silence snapped her out of her reverie. She arched an eyebrow, waiting for the next phase of his tantrum. It was usually some ridiculous question, aimed at forcing her to engage. 

“Are you done gloating? Can we fix my bike—please?” He grumbled the last word, like he really wanted to strangle her instead.

He was still determined to go. And Max felt her smile fading away.

“We go back, we make it easy for them.” She gave it one more shot, even though she knew it was futile.

“We are not easy to kill.” Alec crossed his arms in front of his chest, like he was waiting patiently for her next protest.

“Easy for them to break us apart.” Max bit on her bottom lip, closing her eyes. “Don’t you get it? We’re still new at this.”

“I trust you. I trust us.” She felt his strong arms wrap around her, his deep voice resonating with conviction. “We can do this. Nothing will get between us.”

Max only shivered. Something was really wrong in Seattle. She felt it in her bones. All the pretty words from Alec weren’t going to win her over.

* * *

Alec said nothing as she quietly dismantled the engine of the delivery truck. He’d almost had a heart attack when she systematically took apart his bike next. But he’d watched her hands, no hesitation, fingers flying with ease. She knew exactly what she was doing. 

And when she finally stood up, she was holding a wrench in one hand, a little grease smeared on her cheek, a look of utter defeat on her face. Then wordlessly, she dropped the wrench, staring at the tool like it failed her on all levels.

For a moment he thought he’d completely misread the situation. But he watched her swing a leg over the seat and settle in. And carefully, she inserted the key with her right hand. At the same time, her other hand grasped the left handlebar, holding the clutch down. Then, a second later, he heard it—the sweet sound of his bike firing up. She even revved the engine a few times, before letting it settle into the purring sound he liked so much.

When she finally spoke, her voice was steady, even though her eyes were bright with misery and unshed tears.

“Can we stop by this lake up north? It’s on the way.”

But he didn’t bother to answer. He shut off the engine and lifted her off the bike. He held her up to the sky, her feet dangling, her hands resting lightly on his shoulders. He stared up into her deep brown eyes, his love for her overwhelming—and slowly he let her down, the entire front of her body sliding down his, prolonging the contact. He thought he heard her breathing hitch, even before he pulled her into a tight embrace.

He was happy to stop by every lake, pond, and puddle. 

As long as Max was with him.

* * *

“Good God. What is that noise?” Alec stared in amazement at the large birds in the lake. “Are those geese?”

Max turned toward the water, taking in the long and graceful necks, listening to the insistent honking, knowing that it was rare thing—to see so many of them in one spot.

“Swans.” She nudged him, pointing to one in particular. “Maybe trumpeter swans. Beautiful right?”

“Huh.” Alec squinted, trying to see any kind of magnificence, and coming up short. He saw only skinny necks and lots of white feathers. They were just birds to him.

“They mate for life.” Max murmured, leaning into him, even though he didn’t appreciate their beauty. “And when one dies, the final song—“ 

Alec waited, watching a myriad of emotions cross her face. Why was she so fascinated with swans?

“The final song just tears your soul apart.”

* * *

Alec watched Max approach the big swan nesting on stems and leaves. He shook his head as she whispered gentle praises, gradually edging closer and closer.

“Seriously Max. You cannot be petting the giant bird. Let's go already.” But Max only sent him a dirty look, her feet not even slowing down.

He muttered something about stubborn females and climbed onto his bike. He wasn’t going far. Just a few yards so that Max knew he wasn’t going to watch her play with birds all day. So when he turned the key, he didn't think anything about the sudden roar of engine. He was so used to the noise, that he automatically dismissed it.

But the swan did not. She flapped in surprise as Max fell onto her butt. And even though Max tried to console her and tell her that Alec was just being inconsiderate, the swan extended her large wingspan and took off.

Toward Alec.

* * *

It was like watching a car crash in slow motion. Except it involved Alec’s dirt bike and an angry bird. Max watched frozen, as the swan dove into his path, probably attempting to scold Alec. She saw him swerve and lose control of his bike. And when he finally righted himself, the front tire skidded on a patch of wet grass and sent him careening into the nearest tree. His entire body flew over the handlebars and his bike went sliding in the opposite direction.

She was already blurring toward him, too late to catch his fall. He slumped against the tree, blood trickling down his temple, leaves gently falling on his face.

He was out cold.

* * *

Alec heard Max’s voice from far away. But more than that, he felt a stabbing pain in the back of his head. Like someone had taken a baseball bat to his brain, trying to crack open his skull first.

He opened his eyes, and the sun was too bright. He closed them in protest. Maybe he wasn’t ready for consciousness. Especially if Max was about to yell at him for crashing into a tree.

* * *

Max watched Alec struggle to open his eyes. She caught a brief glimpse of green, and she knew he was in pain. Then he closed his eyes and pretended he didn’t hear her.

“That’s ok. Take your time. I know it hurts.” Max cradled his head on her lap, carefully wiping blood off his face. “I’m sorry the big bad bird scared you.” She kissed his forehead. “Now open your eyes and stop ignoring me.”

She used the gentle voice he hated. If he was going to pretend injury, then she would annoy him awake. She narrowed her eyes, waiting for him to snap at her.

* * *

“Really Max!” Alec tried to sit up, even though the sun still hurt his eyeballs, and hell—maybe he was going blind or something. “I told you, don’t talk to me like that!”

He fell back on her lap, the sudden buzzing in his ears warning him to stay down. Still, he flexed his fingers and wiggled his toes. He felt instant relief that it wasn’t a spinal injury—that he could still move, though maybe not immediately.

“That giant water fowl tried to kill me!” Then an agonizing burst of pain shot through his head, surprising him, making him groan. And before he could tell Max that the swan broke his skull after all, memories started invading—some slow, some fast—some hazy, some clear. Carefully, he rolled off Max, landing on his hands and knees.

He forced his mind to slow down, trying to make sense of the onslaught of information. And the day he couldn’t remember—all those conversations, all those events came crashing through. No wonder he didn’t remember that day.

It was a day he wanted to forget.

* * *

Max didn’t stop him from rolling away. Instead she watched him, his head bowed down, his breathing heavy and erratic, blood still oozing from his temple. He didn’t move—in fact, he seemed frozen.

She had smiled when he started complaining about the swan trying to kill him. It meant that he was going to live after all. But he had stopped suddenly, as if he forgot his next words, as if he forgot she was even there.

She frowned, worried that his head injury was more serious than he let on.

And when he finally looked at her, his green eyes were nearly colorless, like the life had been sucked out of him. But she saw something buried deep—she saw the raw pain, the disbelief—and betrayal too.

 _Was his memory back?_  
  
She crawled over to him, more afraid now than ever. Because if she was right, then—

Alec was remembering—and hating every moment of it.

* * *

Alec didn’t see her move. He didn’t even hear her. He was in another place, another time.

Logan had looked at him with regret, even sighing to prove his point. “I’m sorry Alec. It has to be this way. I’m doing this for Max.”

But Alec had been outraged. “Max would never do this. Not to me. Not to anyone.”

Logan had just closed his eyes, refusing to acknowledge any wrongdoing. “He promised that he would let you go. No harm would come to you.”

Alec had laughed at his stupidity. “Since when do you believe White? He’s a liar and a murderer.”

Logan’s calm demeanor slipped a little. “So are you.” And his pale blue eyes didn’t waver as he stared down the blazing green of Alec’s.

“Max will never forgive you for this.” Impatiently, Alec pulled on the handcuffs, the ones made with reinforced steel, the ones even he couldn’t break.

And when Logan had nodded slowly, Alec knew that it was a done deal. He wasn’t going to get out of this.

“Max won’t know. And you won’t remember. But we’ll have the cure.” Logan’s words were quiet—and sure.

“Don’t do this Logan. We’re friends.” Alec kept his voice even, his last ditch attempt to remind him that they actually were friends. That they had done some good deeds together, helping out people, getting rid of bad guys.

“I tried Alec. But she kept choosing you. We would have the cure already. But you always got in the way.” And Logan had actually looked sad. “You won’t get hurt. I promise.”

Then—

Alec felt Max’s arms surround him, pulling him out of the memory.

He wanted to remember more. 

He was also afraid to.


	11. Checkmate

Chapter 10 – Checkmate 

Ever since Alec had crashed his bike, he’d been moody and withdrawn. No matter what she did, he would not confirm that he got his memory back. Max thought he just needed time, but he didn’t seem to be in any hurry to explain anything. As the miles dwindled and they got closer to Seattle, Max realized that he was going to take his memories to the grave.

In a last ditch effort, Max pulled over to the side of the road, knowing that Alec would follow suit. She sat on her bike, removing her jacket, watching him remove his shades. 

“Tell me.” She took off her gloves, waiting for his response.

“I’m protecting you.” And she saw him hesitate, wanting to tell her, and deciding against it.

“Don’t protect me. Just tell me. It’s you and me—remember?” She tried again, to remind him that they were together on this.

Alec only shook his head, refusing to tell her anything.

“We’re already falling apart, and we haven’t even dealt with White or whatever is waiting for us in Seattle.” Max felt the words rushing out, her chest tight with worry.

And he closed his eyes, his brow furrowed, his mouth set in a grim line. Still he said nothing.

Max felt him slipping further away. She got off her bike and went to him, reading the tension in his body. His hands rested on his thighs, his head bowed, but he hadn’t moved off his seat. It didn’t look like he was about to move either.

So she swung a leg over the seat, her back to the handlebars, and carefully squeezed herself in front of him. She watched him raise his head, his gaze finally meeting hers, the hazel eyes burning into a deep green, the gold nowhere in sight. Slowly she unzipped his leather jacket, pushing it off his shoulders, letting it fall behind him. And when his jacket was out of the way, she put his hands on her waist, scooting close, her legs over his thighs and crossed behind him. She took a moment to inhale his scent—and she felt it—his pain. He was trying so hard to do the right thing—even if he was hurting them both.

And because she didn’t want to fight with him, she gave in to her need to touch him. She trailed her hands up his arms, skimming his shoulders, before settling at the base of his neck, fingers caressing his barcode. Then she moved up his neck, her palms cupping his face, thumbs stroking his jaw. Her fingers applied light pressure behind his head, behind his ears—and she watched the tension ease as he leaned into her touch. Her thumbs touched his mouth lightly before she pulled him close, kissing him softly, pouring all of her love into him.

She broke the kiss, and pressing her forehead against his, she closed her eyes and prayed he would give her this. And, with her voice low and shaky—

“It’s Tuesday Alec. It’s always Tuesday for me. You don’t have to tell me. Let’s just go now. Leave this all behind.”

* * *

Alec tightened his hold on her, afraid to speak, knowing that leaving was probably the safest—and smartest—thing to do.

Every word out of Max’s mouth, and she was slowly tearing him down—reminding him why he loved her so much. She wasn’t trying to force him to say anything. She was offering a way out.

He wanted to take Max and go. 

“I love you Max. I don’t like hurting you like this.” He watched the tears shimmering in her eyes—and he hated himself for it.

* * *

As soon as he spoke, Max knew he’d already made his decision. He was trying to be gentle—but there was no gentle way to say it. He was already in Seattle, planning how to deal with White—and he wasn’t going to tell her the details.

She had not agreed to this. She had only agreed if they were together on this. And right now, they were as far apart as they could be.

She knew she was on the verge of tears, and she hated feeling like some weak-kneed female. She wouldn’t do it. She took a deep breath, forcing the tears away—reminding herself that she was still fighting for them—for their love—even if Alec was too stubborn to include her. 

_So be it._  
  
Let him make plans without her. It didn’t matter anyway. He could pretend and shut her out all he wanted. The fact was—and everyone seemed to know this except him—

When Alec got captured—and at this rate, it would happen sooner than later—

Then it would be Max coming after him. And no one else.

White knew it. And he would be waiting for her.

Because deep down, what Alec didn’t want to admit, what Max didn’t want to admit was this—

For all the traps in the world, White only wanted one thing.

He wanted Max—not Alec.

* * *

Max listened to Alec’s light snore. His arms held her loosely. She wanted to stay in bed with him. It was their last motel stop before crossing the state border. It might be their last motel stop— _ever_ —but Max refused to get too morbid. She had work to do.

Carefully, she untangled herself, and got out of the bed. Eyeing him, she slowly moved, picking up his backpack and hers too. She pulled out his cell phone and grabbed his jeans off the floor.

Quickly, she pulled out the tiny tracking devices, inserting one into his phone and one into his front pocket of his jeans, the little pocket inside the big pocket. She always thought that it was a weird pocket, but today, she was glad for it. It was tiny and the right size for the tracker. He wouldn’t notice it.

She looked at the last tracker, knowing she would place that on his bike, just before they made the final trek into Seattle.

So many trackers for one person. But if one person needed multiple trackers, it was Alec. And if for some reason the trackers didn’t point to the same location, then she would follow his jeans. Because he damn well better keep his pants on.

* * *

“Sir, the green bike has been spotted on the highway, just before the bridge. 494 is headed back into town.” The agent spoke calmly, pulling up coordinates on the monitor. “ETA approximately six hours.”

“Finally.” And White broke out in a wide smile. “You know what to do. Last delivery is 1600. Call me when you’ve secured the prisoner.”

* * *

Max and Alec came in through the back tunnels. No one had spoken the last two miles. Max had nothing left to say to Alec. But she had managed to sneak the last tracker onto his bike, so there was that at least. 

She watched him fiddling with his backpack, his arms digging around, until he pulled out a small silver object. She winced when she realized what it was.

* * *

For the first time in weeks, Alec turned on his phone. He watched it light up and saw eight missed calls from Max, all from the day he’d been captured. Christ, even back then she had known something was wrong. He stopped walking, staring at the phone, knowing that they’d be in Terminal City soon. And suddenly, he didn’t want to continue. He wanted to rewind and go back to their misadventures back in Oregon. He wanted Max to smile at him and make fun of him and love him.

 _Stupid swan._  
  
That killer bird made his memory come back dammit. He’d been clueless and happy—and free from all this. Now he was terrified of losing Max. He knew that White wouldn’t stop. He even knew that White was waiting for him. He had no idea what to do—but he sure as hell wasn’t going to put Max in danger. He’d have to figure this bitch out—or all of them would end up dead.

* * *

“Waiting for White to call you?” Max nudged him when he stopped so abruptly. She peered over his shoulder and saw him scrolling through the list of missed calls. They were all from her. Most of the messages were harmless—but the last one was stupid. She had been pretty pissed that he’d never returned any of her calls.

“Not so lucky.” He murmured, his deep voice thoughtful. And when she thought he would look at her, maybe make some dumb joke—he didn’t. He just kept staring at the phone, like it had all the answers in the world. 

“Delete them Alec.” And she turned away, already walking toward Terminal City. But she had turned too soon. She didn’t see his eyes widen in surprise or his fist clench. If she had, then she would know that she was about to lose Alec sooner than later.

* * *

He was about to shake his head, tell Max that he was going to listen to her voicemail—when an unknown number flashed unexpectedly. And he found himself staring at a digital image that made his heart stop. Then a text message arrived, this time with an address—and a threat.

“One hour. Or she dies.”

* * *

Max stood a few yards away from the entrance, hesitating. Just three more steps, and the guards would see them. Dammit, she wanted to take Alec and run in the other direction.

And she felt Alec come up behind her, wrapping his arms tightly, burying his face into her neck. She leaned into him, resting her arms on his, linking their fingers together.

“I waited a long time for you to love me.” His words, quietly spoken, surprised her. He’d been silent so long, she wasn’t sure he’d say anything. But she heard his deep voice break with longing. She tightened her fingers on his.

“I’m not done loving you.” She whispered the words, nearly choking on them. Then she turned in his arms, trying to get even closer to him, needing his warmth, wanting so much more.

She couldn’t look at him. Right now, it hurt too much. So, with her eyes closed, she nuzzled deeper into his arms, leaning into his chest, listening to his heartbeat, loving the simple sound of it. Then she forced the next words out—

“Just tell me before you go ok?”

“Ok.” Alec promised.

And Max heard his lie.

* * *

“Ain’t you tired of my girl beating yo’ ass?” Original Cindy was annoyed. Someone had tied up her wrists too tight. And she wasn’t happy about the state of her hair. But at least her manicure was intact. She did like how all the pink glitter had turned out. She’d been admiring the sparkles, turning her hand this way and that—when she heard the sudden commotion at the front entrance.

Just two minutes before her shift was done too. She should have called in sick like she wanted. She’d had a late night with that sweet shortie from Crash. But she had decided to pop in for a few hours for some cash money. And this was her reward.

Two men in black suits with earpieces.

She thought about sneaking out the back door—but why bother? White was a thorough kind of villain—he probably had that way locked up tight too. She’d be willing to bet her new skinny jeans that he had snipers outside, just waiting for her to pop out some window. And since she wasn’t revved up like Max, she couldn’t outrun these fools—or bash their heads in. No, she’d have to rely on her other skills. She had brains—and she had a mouth to voice whatever torment she could dish out.

She’d have to outsmart these guys—somehow.

She had followed the agents without a fuss. She got into their black sedan without kicking out their knees. She even kept her mouth shut when they threw a bag over her head, messing up her do for sure.

But right now, she’d hit her boiling point. Her arms were hurting from being stuck behind her back too long. She wasn’t even sure she could feel her fingers anymore.

“Someone better loosen up these ropes! A girl needs some circulation up in here.”

But it was total silence. What was going on out there anyway?

She blew a random curl off her face. Well then. If she was going to suffer this indignity, then they would have to suffer her mouth. She knew she had cameras trained on her. And because she had nothing better to do, she started yelling whatever came to mind.

“You make sure nothing bad happens to Original Cindy—and I’ll tell my home girl _not_ to kill you. Because you so much as break my nail—“

And Cindy broke off, uncertain exactly what her threat was.

“She will expose your venomous cult—and frame you for all those transgenic murders. Which I’m sure was you anyway!”

Was that the right thing to say?

Or the wrong thing?

* * *

Alec took lead, just in case someone was dumb enough not to recognize him. He didn’t want Max accidentally shot by some trigger-happy sentry. He saw Mole coming at him first, puffing a cigar, his favorite rifle slung across his body.

“Goddamn princess! You had us all worried. I’m glad our fearless leader found you.” Alec felt Mole pull him into a crushing hug.

Then he stepped back, eyeing Max with trepidation. “No hard feelings Max? We good?”

Alec turned to look at Max, but she was already blurring. He had no time to warn Mole before Max had launched herself at him.

* * *

Max was faster than any of them had expected. No one saw her pull a knife and cut the strap on Mole’s favorite rifle. They just knew that she was holding the rifle—and methodically breaking it down, throwing each piece in a different direction. When Mole realized that she had disarmed him, he roared in outrage, his cigar falling out of his mouth.

But Max had already dropped to the ground and spun out her legs, connecting viciously with his shins. He fell with a loud thump, dirt flying everywhere. She bounced up like nothing at all, slowly circling the fallen transhuman. And when she had the audacity to place her boot on his chest, Mole wanted nothing more than to separate her foot from her leg.

She would pay for this.

He had his hands curled around her ankle, ready to throw her across the compound—when he felt the point of her knife against his throat. She let him keep that ankle as she crouched in low, meeting his gaze, a small smile on her face. She wanted him to move. She wanted to cut him.

_Fuck._

And if that wasn’t bad enough, he found himself staring into the barrel of Alec’s gun.

_Double fuck.  
_

* * *

“Let her go.” His voice was deceptively soft, his hand steady on the trigger, waiting for Mole to make a decision. “I’m not in the mood for this. If Max gets hurt right now, I’m not responsible for my actions. I really want to shoot someone. And I don’t want it to be you.”

It might have been a joke—except no one was laughing—and for the first time, everyone realized he had a thin hold on his temper. This was not the usual happy-go-lucky Alec. This was predator Alec. And he was protecting his mate.

* * *

Max ran the edge of her knife against Mole scales, enough so that he would feel it—but not enough to break skin. Then she stood slowly, her ankle now free, and stepped off his chest—as if he was never her personal doormat just seconds ago.

She walked to Alec, still pointing a gun to Mole. And like he wasn’t about to pull the trigger, she just slipped her arms around his waist, leaning into his body.

“Time out for everyone? Probably I shouldn’t be jumping on Mole like that.”

* * *

Alec held Mole’s gaze—then slowly, he took in the quiet, knowing that everyone stood frozen, wondering what he’d do next.

Everyone except for Max, that is. She’d come in straight for his heart, squeezing tightly, not caring what anyone thought. He’d felt her love pouring into him—her acceptance of his behavior—and her need to be near him.

She liked to just press against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, just to confirm that he was still alive. Not that she would admit it—and not that it mattered anyway. He would take any reason for Max to be near him.

“Are you done scaring Mole Alec?” He felt her sneak a kiss onto his sternum. 

His movements were so automatic, he hadn’t even realized that he’d returned his gun to his waistband. And with his hands free, he cupped her cheeks tenderly, leaning his forehead against hers, whispering words only she could hear.

“I’m pretty sure that was you Max. He’s still on the ground.”

* * *

Mole stared at Max and Alec in disgust. He forgot that Max had held a knife to him—and Alec had pointed a gun at him. Because this was so much worse.

 _Were they going to make out in front of him?_  
  
That was just gross.

And he forgot that he was still flat on his ass.

* * *

Max sighed, loving the feel of Alec’s hands on her face, his body warm against hers. She let the sound of his deep voice wash over her, soothing her, overshadowing all. She forgot that she was in Terminal City. She forgot about the scuffle with Mole. She forgot everything except that Alec loved her.

“I’m going to head over to the apartment for a quick shower.” And Max caught her breath, closing her eyes against his lie. It would be better if he just quit talking.

But before she could say anything, Alec pulled her even closer, uncaring that all of TC was gathered around, watching, waiting, curious. 

And in front of everyone, Alec kissed her deep, claiming her. She loved his kisses. She pressed against him, her entire body humming with need. Her fingers tangled with his hair, stroking his neck, skimming his barcode. She felt him shudder before he broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against hers.

And she knew—

It was a goodbye kiss.

* * *

Max watched Alec walk away, her heart breaking, knowing that his lies were getting easier and easier. Then taking a deep breath, she forced her gaze to Mole, who had managed to sit up, but made no effort to stand. He was watching her closely, waiting for her next move.

She crouched down, so she was eye to eye with him. “There is a fine line between stupidity and loyalty. By the time I found Alec, he was already bleeding out.” Even without closing her eyes, the image was still so vivid to her—Alec broken and lifeless, hanging from the ceiling, blood pooling below. 

“He should be dead.” Her voice almost broke on the last word.

“You don’t have to like me. But when it comes to Alec, don’t lie to me.” She raised her hand, automatically stopping his interruption. “Don’t explain. You’re Alec’s friend. You covered for him. I understand.”

“But understand this. I will do anything to keep him alive. So either help me—or get out of my way.” And when Mole nodded, Max stood up, offering her hand. Then she smiled when he took her hand and she yanked him up—before she spoke again.

“No hard feelings, right?”

* * *

Mole growled anytime anyone offered to help him find a missing piece to his rifle. He still wasn’t happy about how it all went down—but no one was dead, so that was a good thing. And he understood Max’s anger. Even though he’d sent a team to follow Max—and help retrieve Alec—he’d been too late. He’d basically left Max to fend for herself, despite promising Alec he’d watch over her.

But seriously, how did anyone watch over Max anyway? She was so damn volatile and unpredictable—he wasn’t even sure how Alec handled her.

He started cursing again. The pistol grip was still missing, and so was the rear sight block. He kicked some glass bottles out of the way. Then he punched a new dent into an old car, something round and rusty, a familiar shape—maybe a Volkswagen Beetle in another lifetime. He was looking for the next thing to beat up when he caught a new scent. And he realized he wasn’t alone.

Someone was watching him.

* * *

“Truce?” Max held out the missing pieces for Mole’s rifle.

Mole just grunted, but he accepted the parts, quickly inserting them where they belonged.

“I need your help.” And he watched Max pull out her laptop. “Alec’s on the move, even though he’s supposed to be in the shower.”

“Is that him?” Mole stared at the screen, watching the blinking dot. “Is he looking for soap?”

Max didn’t even crack a smile. “He’s looking for White.”

* * *

Dix synced up the computers so that Alec’s blinking dot showed up on the main screen. He pulled up the log files and turned to Max. “It’s been 10 minutes.” He scrolled through the other files, confirming time stamps. “These are the other trackers, right? They’re all in one location. He’s probably sitting on his bike—waiting for the meet.”

Ten minutes? No way Alec would sit that long. Max closed her eyes, hoping that she was wrong, hoping that she overreacting. “Dammit. Ping all trackers now. Let me know which ones come back.” 

She heard the squeak of his chair when he turned to look at her. “Just the bike Max. The other trackers are off grid.”

“He’s gone.” Max opened her eyes, staring at the useless blinking dot. “White has Alec.”

* * *

While everyone tried to convince Max that she wrong, she waited for Dix to call her name. And he would, he just didn’t know it yet.

Exactly 21 minutes later, she heard Dix muttering. “Incoming Max.”

She closed her eyes, knowing who it was—but still not ready for the confrontation—or the gloating. She nodded to Dix so that he could patch the call to the main screen. Then she heard the static—and White’s voice. 

“Welcome back 452.”

Max waited, not responding to him. She hated that White's smug face was all over the screen, that she had to look at him—and know that he held hostage someone she loved very much.

“Ah, the silent game.” She watched White nod patiently at her, like she was some errant child. “Guess who I have in my guest accommodations?”

“Alec.” Max’s voice was flat.

“And?” White grinned unexpectedly. 

“And what?” Max snapped, wanting desperately to reach through the screen and break his neck. “Isn’t that enough?”

“Patience.” White paused dramatically. “Wait, wait. Ah, it’s been sent. I made you a little video. Tell me what you think of it.”

Max narrowed her eyes, not liking how confident White was. Then she heard Mole cursing behind her, and while she would have ignored him—he poked her shoulder and pointed to another monitor. She took her eyes off White—and felt her heart sink. A small gasp escaped before she could stop it.

_Was that Cindy tied to a chair?  
_

* * *

White was enjoying himself immensely. To see the shock on 452’s face—it was priceless. She’d been expecting to see 494. She had not been prepared for that loud Cindy creature.

She had no idea what he had in store for her. He smiled in anticipation.

* * *

This was not good. White was smiling too much. First Alec—now Cindy? Max resisted the urge to smash the monitor. Instead, she forced her body to keep still, knowing he wanted some kind of reaction.

* * *

“Because I’m generous.” White motioned to someone behind him. “Another gift for you, just so you don’t have any doubts.”

Mole started swearing again. Max turned to the other monitor, knowing what it would show, needing confirmation anyway. She gripped the chair in front of her, almost crushing the wood into splinters.

The new video showed Alec pacing back and forth in a cell.

* * *

“Your friend and 494—while they are my guests—they do not share the same quarters.” White leaned in close to the monitor, just to emphasize his point.

“Do you understand?” White spoke slowly. “They are in separate, physical locations.” Then he leaned back, a thoughtful—almost helpful—expression on his face. "So even if you somehow locate one—you won't have enough time to rescue both."

“What do you want?” Max was suddenly tired. She just wanted her people safe.

“452, you disappoint me. No need to rush.” White wagged his finger at her. “Let me enjoy my little victory here.”

“Because right now—“ He paused dramatically, leaning into the screen. “I have your king and queen.” And when he stopped smiling, Max felt a chill go down her spine.

“Checkmate.”


	12. Wildfire

Chapter 11 – Wildfire 

“You’re insane Max.” Mole was pacing in front of her. “You know it’s a trap. There’s no way that White will just give everyone up.”

“Yeah. But he’ll want to humiliate me first. That gives us a small window. At least Alec and Cindy will be there. We can get them out. I just have to ride out White’s master plan.” Max looked out the window, watching the endless rain, hating that both Cindy and Alec were alone and unprotected.

“There’s no other way?” Mole stopped pacing to look at her. “Because Alec will just kill me if something happens to you.”

Max turned away from the window and looked at Mole. “The other way was unacceptable. White wanted me to choose one or the other. And I told him I was no Sophie.”

“What?” Mole grunted in confusion. “Who the hell is Sophie?”

“Sophie had to choose only one child to live. I hated that book. Sophie’s Choice, what a load of crap.” And when Mole only frowned, Max waved her hand in dismissal. “Never mind. Just get the cameras in place and hide some weapons for me. I have to go to White clean. He might put a wire on me.”

“Are you sure about the location? That ordinary sitting out there means nothing.” Mole checked the screen, cameras showing a fuzzy image of a dirty, dark blue Aztek. 

“It means everything Mole.” Max closed her eyes, remembering the last time she’d been there. She had taken a flying leap from a second story window. “It’s the same warehouse I found Alec.”

* * *

The door slid open and White stepped through, a thoughtful expression on his face. He eyed 494 objectively, noting that he hadn’t bothered to get up. His legs were crossed at the ankles, an arm was thrown over his face, while the other one rested on his stomach. Was he actually napping on the floor?

He caught himself before he kicked 494 awake. He’d given his word to 452. And he would keep it—for now.

“Rise and shine 494. Your fellow freak 452 will be here soon to pick you up.” He waited for 494 to open his eyes.

“Max is going to kick your ass.” 494 said in a bored tone. “She doesn’t like it when weirdoes kidnap me. And you keep doing it.”

White only laughed at him. “I doubt she’ll be touching me. Or you. But maybe she’ll go for Eyes Only. That is her true love, right?”

He held back a smile, watching 494 stiffen instead, fire flashing in his eyes.

Why had it taken him so long to figure this out? 452 would break—and 494 would help him do it.

Things were falling into place perfectly.

* * *

Alec narrowed his gaze at White. Why was he so smug? White had pretty much shot him up before leaving him for dead—just a month ago. He’d been too impatient, wondering where Max was—wondering why the rescue wasn’t happening.

Hell, not that he wanted to die—but he’d been glad that Max hadn’t been captured trying to rescue him. And while she’d been sketchy on the details, he knew that Max—and only Max—had shown up to pull him out. It must have been bad too because Max got all tight-lipped when he asked about it.

He wanted to think that Logan hadn’t set him up—but he couldn’t keep making excuses. And goddammit, it was his own fault. Logan knew that he liked a good bottle of scotch—and he’d just left it on the table waiting for him. He’d never even offered a drink. Alec just helped himself (like he always did)—and next thing he knew, he was waking up to a massive headache and special transgenic handcuffs.

Did Logan really do all this for the cure? Max would have a hissy fit. She’d made her choice even before he’d been captured. Max loved him—not Logan. He would stake his life on it. And it didn’t matter what anyone said.

* * *

“Did you try his phone?” Mole threw an extra ammunition belt over his shoulders. “I got voicemail.”

“Me too. I left messages, but at this point—“ Max bit her lip, rubbing her temples absently. “Who knows what happened to his phone. So he’s going into this blind.”

“Will this work? Because if Alec believes whatever crap White pulls—“ Mole broke off, meeting Max’s gaze.

“Alec said that we’re in this together. He promised me. Plus, it’s Tuesday.” He raised an eyebrow when Max slipped a small knife into her boot.

“It’s Wednesday Max.” Mole frowned, certain that he got his calendar right.

“Alec knows it’s Tuesday. He’ll understand. And he’ll know it’s some stupid game to test us.” Max sounded sure as she slipped another knife into her other boot.

“If he doesn’t?” Mole asked the question that no one did.

Max tightened the knots on her laces before she answered. She took a deep breath, and he thought he caught some pain in her eyes.

“He still goes free. And so does Cindy. But I surrender. That’s the deal I made with White.”

* * *

“I don’t like it.” Mole did not sound convinced, and Max didn’t blame him.

“Me too.” Max leaned against the wall, her arms crossed in front of her. “But if Alec stays true, then we all walk—me, Alec, Cindy.”

“Ain’t gonna happen. White will double cross you.” Mole waved his cigar at her, ash flying everywhere.

“Which is why you hid some weapons for me, right? And some guns for Alec? Because he likes to shoot the bad guys.” Max pushed off the wall and walked toward him. “We can do this Mole.” 

“It’s the best I got. I don’t know how else to get White to pull them from separate locations. He wants me—and those were my terms.”

* * *

Whatever Alec was expecting, this wasn’t it. He thought for sure White would shove him front and center—make some outrageous demands—then Max would come in and kick some ass. It was her thing. She liked to make an entrance—either dropping through a skylight or bursting through some windows—or some other thing equally dramatic.

But this? It was so—sedate. That was the only word he could come up with. 

He scanned the room, counting the guards, noting all the weapons on their bodies. It’d be easy to disarm them. He almost smiled, but he didn’t want to get too cocky. Something was about to happen—he just wasn’t sure what.

When he heard a commotion at the front doors, he smirked in anticipation, thinking that Max had finally arrived. But all the noise and the feet shuffling pointed to someone else.

Original Cindy walked in, her headscarf crooked, her hair in wild disarray. Alec winced. She would not be happy about that. And she kept rubbing her wrists—which meant that White had kept her tied up for too long. That was another thing that would piss off Max.

He waited for Cindy to get her bearings, to look around, to notice him watching her. He needed to know that she was ok. And when she finally found him, he was still startled by her voice.

“Damn boy! Don’t be standing there all pretty. Do something and get us out of this mess.”

* * *

White nodded to the agent by the south entrance. The doors swung open and 452 walked in, flipping her hair like a beauty queen. When she met his gaze, she just rolled her eyes and flipped more hair.

When she stopped in front of him, she smiled sweetly, twirling a few strands of hair. “Miss me White?”

He smiled in return. “You ready to play 452?”

“Bring it.” 452 finally stopped touching her hair, her hands landing on her hips.

* * *

Even for Max, that was some excessive hair flipping. What was she doing?

Alec watched her scan the room, landing on each guard and flipping hair. He frowned, certain he’d never seen her act so strangely. Was it some secret code that he never learned at Manticore?

He heard another door open, this time from the west side. His eyes narrowed when he realized who it was. He felt the pent-up rage simmering to the surface.

* * *

Logan took in the scene in front of him. Max was in the middle of a stare down with White. Original Cindy was retying her scarf, tucking in whatever hair she could reach. And Alec was looking about ready to murder him on the spot.

Everybody was here. Why’d he think it would be a peaceful exchange?

He clutched the briefcase in his hand. He could do this. Alec was unhurt—just as he’d promised him last time. And Max, she didn’t know yet, but she would understand. They’d waited too long for this.

He took a deep breath. It was time to get rid of the virus once and for all.

* * *

“How many hair flips was that?” Mole grunted as he squinted at the monitor.

“Six.” Dix leaned in, poking the screen. “What’d you get?”

“Five. Dammit. What’d I miss?” Mole scratched his head, puffing on his cigar.

“One on the balcony.” Dix leaned back, zooming the camera, catching the sniper hidden behind the crates.

“We’re so outgunned.” Mole groaned, muttering about suicide missions and pig-headed females.

Dix nodded his head in agreement. “We’re always outgunned.” He paused thoughtfully. “But it levels the playing field. How would ordinaries survive us otherwise?”

Mole blinked at Dix in surprise. “Good point.”

* * *

“This is the worse showdown ever!” Alec yelled, suddenly annoyed and needing something to happen. “If no one is going to do anything, I’m going to break Logan’s face—because this is all his fault!”

He saw a flurry of movement, men rapidly drawing weapons—and he figured, aiming at him. So when he looked down to his chest, his white shirt was the same. A bit wrinkled, but still just white.

Instead, Cindy was the one with multiple red laser dots on her chest. Good thing she was still fussing with her hair. Otherwise, she’d not have been pleased to have all the attention focused on her.

* * *

Max automatically turned toward Alec’s voice, happy to hear him complaining about something. She took in the sight of him, relieved that he seemed unharmed and intact. She even took a step toward him before she heard White’s amused voice.

“Wrong direction 452.” His hand pointed in the opposite direction. “Your true love is over there.”

Max frowned, turning her entire body, realizing that someone else had joined the party. She’d been so busy eyeballing White, she hadn’t even noticed Logan walk in. Truthfully, she’d put him out of her mind. The fact that he’d been sitting in Bessie for hours meant nothing to her.

Because really—

If she thought too hard about it, Logan looked all kinds of guilty. And Max wasn’t sure she could handle that.

* * *

When Max looked at him, Alec felt his mind calm down. Something was about to happen, even if he wasn’t privy to it. She even took a step toward him, relief flickering before she blinked and shook her head slightly.

His jaw dropped. Did she just tell him to shut up and not move?

* * *

Logan met Max halfway, uncertain how to proceed. Should he just give her the briefcase, and she would inject the cure herself?

They stood a good five feet apart, neither of them speaking. Max had been staring at the briefcase before she finally met his gaze. Wary brown eyes met with hopeful blue ones.

“What’s going on Logan?” Max nodded to all the agents in the warehouse. “Why all the drama? I would have come to you. And you didn’t need to hurt Alec. He almost died.” She took a step closer to him. “I almost died trying to protect him.”

Logan sighed, running one hand through his hair. “That’s just it. You shouldn’t have to sacrifice yourself.”

Max narrowed her gaze at him, waiting for him to continue.

“It’s over Max.” Logan lifted the briefcase. “The cure for a few blood samples from Alec. It was a simple exchange, really. And somehow it got all messed up.”

* * *

A few blood samples? What kind of lunatic statement was that? Alec bleeding out was due to torture and gunshots at point blank range. There had been no needles or trays or anything remotely medical that might indicate “a few blood samples.”

And hadn’t she given Logan a cooler full of transgenic blood before he left TC? In fact, she’d bet her Ninja that he did receive some of Alec’s blood—because Alec was the only one who showed up every week to donate. She studied Logan’s face—and she couldn’t read him. She only knew that no one needed Alec’s blood—least of all White.

Either Logan was lying or he was delusional.

She wasn’t sure which—and honestly, she didn’t care. She felt her temper rising, and she forced slow breaths—knowing that White wanted her to lose it. This was all part of White’s evil plan.

She spoke her next words clearly, so that he would understand.

“Logan, we do not need the cure. I asked you to leave TC because we were done. We are never going to be together.”

Then she nodded to the briefcase. “The cure almost cost Alec his life. And the cure is worth no one’s life.”

* * *

Alec watched the exchange with interest. Of course Max would refuse the cure. She loved him, not Logan.

So far, nothing was making sense to him.

Why would White care about the cure? Why would he offer it to Logan for his blood?

Nothing added up.

* * *

“Brava 452!” White clapped his hands loudly—and in exaggerated fashion. He walked over to them, and blocking 494's view of 452, he leaned into her personal space. She didn’t move an inch. She just raised an eyebrow at him, waiting for him to speak.

“No need to pretend. You brought back 494—and this is your reward.” White nodded to Logan, who carefully opened the case, exposing its contents. Lined in black foam, the only thing it contained was a syringe with a bright green liquid.

“Did you really think it would be so easy 452?” He lifted the syringe, squirting just a little in her direction, watching her blanch when it almost touched her.

“He gets to watch you reunite with your true love—all cured. And if he still chooses you, it’s a free pass for everyone. Will he choose you 452?” 

White stabbed the needle into 452, uncaring where it landed. He pushed the plunger all the way, forcing the liquid into her bloodstream, knowing he was supposed to go slowly. Instead, he released the entire dosage all at once—knowing she would suffer more this way.

The shock in her eyes was so worth it.

* * *

Max was not prepared for the excruciating pain rushing through her entire body. It started from her arm—where the needle got her—and from there, it grew like wildfire, in every direction, punishing her, forcing her to her knees.

When Max collapsed so suddenly, no one moved. She had managed to throw out one hand, saving her from falling flat on her face. As it was, she was still on her knees, in front of White, like she was worshipping the bastard.

 _Just no._  
  
Before she tried standing, she took a few moments to take stock of her body. Whatever was coursing through her veins was not the cure. Or maybe it was—but White added something else to it. 

_Something poisonous._  
  
That’s what it felt like. It felt like one of the many poisons she’d injected into her body many months ago, when she’d been conducting her own experiments, trying to find the cure herself.

Was it cyanide? Except that it’d been over two minutes, and she would have been unconscious already.

No, it had to be a slow-acting agent.

It felt like—arsenic. And last time, it had taken about two hours before she felt its effects. And she figured that White probably gave her double the dose at least—if not more.

She gave herself exactly one hour before she became useless.

Goddammit.

* * *

Alec was the only one who knew exactly how fast Max was. Her speed was just as explosive as her temper. It was the only reason she’d ever managed to land as many blows on him as she did. And the only way to stop her had to been to overpower her—or annoy her.

Then to watch White waving the cure so nonchalantly—before stabbing it into Max without a fight? It made no sense to him. She had time to avoid him, punch him, kick the needle away—just something.

She had time to react. And she didn’t.

He forgot about the agent holding a gun to him. He forgot about Cindy with the laser light show on her chest. He blurred to Max, needing to know that she was alright, needing to know that she didn’t just _let_ White inject the cure into her.

He needed something dammit.

* * *

White knew that 494 would come rushing in. He got out of the way just in time. 452 was still on the ground, a sad little lump of freak. His brow furrowed. He hoped that it wasn’t too much poison. He didn’t want the show to end too soon.

* * *

Max felt Alec touch her—and she flinched before she could stop herself. The poison was burning her from the inside out. Her skin, right now, was sensitive to any kind of touch. It would take a few minutes for that symptom to fade. Then her breathing would be out of control. And her vision would go next—

She shook her head. She still had time. She needed to focus. She could still get Alec and Cindy out. Even with White cheating like this.

* * *

Logan watched Max react to Alec touching her. He had been worried that she would be upset—but she had flinched right? She didn’t want Alec to touch her. So Logan had to protect her.

“It’s over Alec. She loves me. She doesn’t want you anymore.” Logan waited for Alec to look at him. He could handle Alec with logic. He would listen to reason.

He was prepared to win Max back. He wasn’t prepared for Alec’s fist in his face.

* * *

Alec’s rage was all consuming. And the only thing that stopped him from killing Logan outright was Max herself. She was finally standing on her own—albeit still looking a bit wobbly and pale.

“Stop Alec.” He felt her hand touch his back, rubbing slowly, knowing it would calm him down.

He dropped Logan abruptly, who landed on his knees, clutching his now bleeding nose. He turned carefully, until he was face to face with Max.

He reached out and pulled her close, needing her comfort. He heard her swift intake of breath, and he saw her wince. The realization sunk in—even as his mind fought it.

_She didn’t want him to touch her.  
_

* * *

The fabric of his shirt actually hurt her skin. It took all of her willpower not to scream in agony when Alec wrapped his arms around her. She loved him holding her. And now White had managed to take that away.

She wanted to cry. She wanted to punch something.

And now Alec was looking at her like she had betrayed him.

* * *

Alec stepped away slowly, his hands up in the air. He had no idea what just happened. He only knew that Max had frozen in his arms—just waiting for him to let go.

She always welcomed his touch, no matter where they were. But now Logan was back—and Alec wasn’t allowed to touch her anymore?

Was it really all about the cure?

It made him sick—and Alec felt a darkness spread in him. He needed Max to stop looking at him with love and regret in her eyes. He needed her to explain things before he lost what little control he had.

* * *

White didn't bother to hide his gloating. It was going so well. Why hadn’t he thought this up before?

It was so simple really. He had spent over a year trying to find 452’s weakness. He knew that it was 494, but he’d never figured out how to leverage that. Anytime he’d been able to capture 494, 452 managed to recover him.

The last rescue expedition, in fact, still gave him migraines. No actual group of mutants had shown up for 494—which meant that 452 had rescued him alone, somehow terminating four agents (two of whom were Familiars) and hauling 494 (who was almost twice her weight)—and no one had seen her on the ground floor—so how had she escaped? Did she sprout wings and just fly away? 

452 consistently defied the laws of physics. It was irritating.

But now, the drama unfolding in front of him was beautiful. All he’d had to do was tap into 494’s insecurities—and it was magic. He was the key to 452’s destruction.

True defeat had to come from the inside. 452 stood rooted, stunned, uncertain. It was a pleasure to behold. Eyes Only kept spewing words—and 452 denied nothing, said nothing. Every second that passed in silence only made her look more guilty.

Could things get any better?

* * *

“She loves me Alec. That’s why she let my guys go. The ones that found you in the motel.”

Logan looked at Alec, hoping he was getting through. Then he glanced at Max—and almost jumped back in surprise. Max had a strange look on her face—like she wanted to break his legs.

He had hired the two men, using the informant net, calling in favors. He only knew that White would walk away with the cure—if he didn’t deliver at least their location.

Max knew nothing about the two guys who accidentally stumbled upon them in Oregon. It was a blatant lie—and he waited for Max to call him out. 

But she said nothing. Which meant that she was protecting him.

Logan smiled in relief.

* * *

Max was struggling to hold onto her composure. She should have let Alec beat Logan into the ground. He was annoying her—and just making everything worse.

And for some reason, Alec seemed to believe Logan?

* * *

Logan was on a roll. Like the journalist he was, the words flowed effortlessly, spinning its web, holding a captive audience. Eyes Only knew how to tell a compelling story. This wildfire of misguided deceit was spreading too fast—and consuming everything in its path.

“She knew it was her last chance to be with you, before she brought you in. Before she traded you for me. Her time with you—it was a gift goodbye.”

* * *

Something in Alec broke. He’d been watching Max the whole time—and she’d not moved a muscle. She was still frozen in place—clearly shocked by Logan’s words. Shocked because he said them? Or shocked because he exposed her?

He really needed to hear her voice. He needed to know that she was still his.

_Did he have to provoke her?_

“We didn’t have to go out of town for that.” And Alec openly leered at her, taking his time, lingering on all the curves he was already so familiar with. Then he walked a slow circle around her, his hand skimming her hip, eyeing her up and down.

“I’d have paid you for it. You are that good.” His green eyes spit fire—and disgust. This was Max’s last chance. Either she would come at him and deny his outrageous words—or she would—

Goddammit. He wasn’t sure anymore. But he needed Max to say something, do something. 

Was she even listening?

* * *

 _Oh no, he didn’t._  
  
Did he just call Max a hooker?

And Original Cindy lost her temper. She started hollering before the guard could stop her.

“Boy, you best reign in your stupid! Max about to beat some sense into you. You lucky I’m too far away cause you know I’d do it myself!” Cindy stood with her hands on her hips, not worried about guns pointing at her.

The blow came out nowhere. Cindy lost her breath and saw stars. On top of her messed up do, now she’d be sporting a giant bruise on her cheek.

She narrowed her gaze at the guard wearing a smug smile.

“You gonna pay fo’ that fool. Max don’t like anyone messing with me.” Cindy knew how protective Max was about her family. She was completely irrational and violent when anyone she loved was in danger.

So this—

Whatever this game was, she knew that Max was playing for keeps. She’d get her and Alec out, even if her boy couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

She didn’t need to be revved up to figure that out.

* * *

Max caught the movement and heard Cindy gasp in pain. She was enduring all the accusations from Alec so that she could get them both out—alive. But White had promised that no one would touch either Cindy or Alec. That was the deal.

And this—this guard just slapped Cindy?

Then she heard the gunshot—and saw the body slump to the ground.

* * *

White met her gaze with ease, already holstering his weapon. He raised hands in mock surrender.

“My apologies 452. My agent forgot the rules of conduct. We always treat our guests with courtesy. He paid the price.” He nodded to the fallen agent. “Let’s wrap this up. Eyes Only has a special night planned for you.”

* * *

The burning sensation was easing up. Her skin wasn’t as sensitive as before, but the pain was still there. Soon though, maybe in 30 minutes, her breathing would be out of whack—and it would be too late for her—for all of them really.

So this was her final shot. She turned to Alec, letting her love shine bright in her eyes, hoping that he would understand her—despite all the deranged logic coming from Logan.

* * *

Alec saw the change in Max, saw the flash of pain before she pulled herself together. All she had to do was walk a few steps to him, touch him—claim him in front of everyone here, in front of friends and enemies alike.

But all she did was stand there and expect him to fall in line.

_Fuck no.  
_

* * *

“It’s Tuesday Alec.” Max’s voice was strong and true. She even smiled with confidence.

Alec caught his breath. Was she really claiming to love him right now? Why couldn’t she just say it out loud? Why didn’t she at least deny all the lies coming out of Logan’s mouth?

He forced the words out of his mouth, hating himself, even as he said it—

“It’s never Tuesday.” He watched the light dim from her eyes. 

“Alec?” He heard the small quiver in her voice. “It’s Tuesday.”

He said nothing. He had nothing left for her.

* * *

Because Max was running out of time, because she could feel her breathing stutter—she chose her next words carefully.

“Are you leaving me Alec?”

And Max knew she had just damned herself. She was buying Alec’s freedom—but it was costing her his love. He would not forgive her for this.

* * *

_Was nothing sacred to her? How dare she remind him of his promise?_

Alec saw red—and snapped. 

His hand blurred, automatically wrapping around her throat, squeezing the life out of the woman he loved. He waited for this, the last time she would fight him. Instead, she looked at him with tears in her eyes before she surrendered to him, giving him her last breath.

Christ, even now she was tearing him apart. She was letting him destroy her.

He shoved her away in disgust. She deserved Logan. He didn’t care about White or the guns trained on him. Let them shoot him. 

He walked out of the warehouse without looking back.


	13. Swan Song

Chapter 12 – Swan Song 

Max bowed her head in defeat, her throat sore, her breathing coming in shallow. She had gambled and lost. She’d been so sure that Alec would know that she loved him. That he would know that White had set them up, an elaborate game to mess with their minds—and separate them.

How ironic was that?

Alec had figured it out. They couldn’t be defeated if they stayed true to each other—if they believed in each other.

White had figured it out too. He couldn’t defeat them together—so he would destroy them separately.

He managed to drive a wedge between them—and Max wasn’t sure they could come back from it.

She was hurting so much right now—and she knew what was going on.

How much worse for Alec who knew nothing at all?

* * *

Alec walked out the warehouse unscathed. If he’d been thinking clearly, he would have remembered that White never let anyone walk out unharmed.

He was always shot at, or ambushed, or captured—no matter what White said.

He kept going until he found himself in the wooded area behind the warehouse. Suddenly he couldn’t breathe, his chest tight with pain. He bent over his knees, hands digging into his thighs, uncertain where to go.

He let his mind go blank. He didn’t look up when he heard the screech of brakes. He didn’t fight when someone shoved him in a van. 

He only wondered why it smelled like cigar smoke.

* * *

“You need a drink?” Luke pointed to a bottle of scotch—lodged between two monitors, numerous cables, headsets—and other assorted computer components. The surveillance equipment was jammed in the back of their van, Luke and Dix at separate stations, with Mole grumbling in the front seat. 

Alec said nothing. He grabbed the bottle and took a deep swig. He was too shaken up to speak, much less acknowledge anyone. He took another drink, burning the back of his throat—before he allowed himself to look around. And what he saw surprised him. 

Dix was busy typing, muttering about clarity of sound. He narrowed his eyes. He studied the monitor in front of him. His entire body stilled when he realized that cameras were trained on Max—with White pointing a gun to her head.

“You got eyes on the warehouse?” He hissed in fury. “What the hell is going on?”

* * *

“You lost 452.” White was having fun gloating. He pushed the gun into her temple, annoyed that she didn’t even blink at him.

“Oh come on.” He waved the gun at everyone around him. “It was spectacular. You can’t really blame him for leaving.” He pointed to Logan. “That bit with Eyes Only and his declaration of love—brilliant! Even I wasn’t expecting that.”

And when she finally turned to look at him, White wasn’t prepared for it. That look in her eyes, he had never seen it before.

* * *

Alec started. Max’s face, so very calm, also radiated a certain kind of danger. She stared at White, and the cameras caught the look—the one that only Alec knew how to interpret. He had seen her at the end of her rope before—and this was Max—

He caught his breath, as understanding dawned on him.

This was Max full of rage—and loss—and grief.

This was Max about to go lethal because she just lost everything she loved.

* * *

“I need to go back.” Alec stood up suddenly. “Something’s not right.”

“You’re not right.” Dix muttered, still typing away. “Sit down.”

“What the—“ Alec started to sway, his vision beginning to blur. “Was there something in that drink?” He put his hand against the wall of the van.

Luke pushed him into the seat. “Sit down man.” He nodded to the nearly empty bottle of scotch. “Max mixes a mean drink. You got less than 60 seconds.”

Alec controlled the urge to punch him. He couldn’t waste energy fighting right now. Instead, he slowed down his heart—slowed down his breathing. He could fight the drugs, whatever Max had put in the drink. He focused on the screen, watching Max and White dance around each other without actually moving. Whatever was about to happen—maybe 60 seconds, that would be enough time.

* * *

White watched as her smile slowly but surely blossomed—it was unexpected and eerie too. Shouldn’t she be panicking—or at least upset that 494 had left her to fend for herself? Shouldn’t she be angry that 494 had believed the worst of her—and she hadn’t done much to convince him otherwise?

Then something happened to her eyes. The deep brown that usually lit up with arrogance—those eyes shuttered—and any feeling at all was lost.

Something warned White that she was about to snap. And as much as he was looking forward to it—he still wasn’t prepared for it.

It happened too fast.

* * *

To an outsider, it would seem that everyone stood still, just watching events unfold.

To Alec, it was a slow motion death scene—where the audience knew that something terrible was about to happen. 

And when she was smiling like that, assessing White and all the guns trained on her, he knew that Max had already counted how many targets were in the warehouse—and she knew everyone’s exact position.

He knew, as soon as Max reached for it, that she was about to do something she would regret. Even White didn’t see it coming.

* * *

Max felt a strange mix of heartache and relief when Alec had walked out of the warehouse. She was happy that he was unharmed. She was devastated that he didn’t believe her.

But she knew that this ending was entirely possible. She was ok with that.

Just, it hurt so much.

And the only way to deal with the pain was to act.

When the pain was this much, usually Alec was there to talk her down, reminding her that life was still good.

But Alec was no more. And right now, right now—

Her brain was analyzing movements and trajectories. She felt the calm inside her settle and spread, her brain telling her—

_Take the gun from White. Shoot him. Anticipate sniper in balcony and twist left. Shoot him. Take out the man holding a gun to OC’s head. Two guys behind you, standing by the door. Turn and shoot. Count the bullets. You have enough. You have knives too. Everything is a kill shot. Everything.  
_

* * *

It was a blood bath.

Alec watched in horror as Max took White’s gun without much effort and shot him in the knees. She didn’t bother watching him collapse to the ground in shock. She was already busy twisting her entire body, shifting just enough, so the sniper’s bullet missed her heart, and nicked her shoulder instead.

She didn’t even blink.

She used that time to steady her stance and aim. A red dot blossomed in the sniper’s forehead. She didn’t watch him fall off the balcony.

She had already blurred to the wooden crates. The guards near the door had moved earlier than anticipated. They were aiming at her, and she didn’t care.

She caught sight of them in the window, their movements hurried but clumsy. She turned and fired two successive shots. She didn’t watch them fall in surprise. 

At this point, the man holding a gun to OC was just smirking at her. “You think you’re fast enough?”

But Max wasn’t even looking at him. She blinked twice at OC before she turned her attention to the gunman. Then slowly, she raised her hands in surrender, the gun dangling by her finger.

“You’re just a stupid, little girl—“ And the rest of his words were cut off when the knife found his throat. He had been so intent on Max and her gun that he forgot to watch her other hand, the one that blurred and threw a knife with deadly accuracy. 

He gurgled in protest before his gun went off.

* * *

Original Cindy had been trained well. She knew when her boo was about to do something insane. She wasn’t sure what the unnecessary blinking meant, but she knew she had to duck or die. So she did.

The gunshot was loud and made her jump. If she hadn’t ducked, she’d have a hole in her head, that’s for sure.

She looked at Max, concerned that she was so calm during the whole thing. She should have been yelling or breaking things—or just creating general mayhem. Max liked the physical payoff—the punching, kicking, and throwing—really, the overall bloodying of bad guys—while simultaneously insulting them. It’s what she thrived on.

But this was all new to her. She’d never seen this side of Max before—this all business, shoot-to-kill side. She was pretty sure that Max was allergic to guns, so this whole mess of dead bodies—it was entirely worrisome.

* * *

“Unbelievable!” White snarled, stuck on the floor, furious that he needed kneecaps to stand. “Did you just take out my entire team? You are going to jail for this! Unless I kill you first!” Swearing, he forced his torso off the ground, sitting up, his entire body twisted awkwardly. 

He watched as she turned back to look at him, her head tilted to one side. She tapped her chin thoughtfully. And her next words surprised him.

“You’re right. I’m so glad I didn’t kill you.” Then he watched in trepidation as she wiped the gun clean—and calmly walked over to him, only to place it back in his hand. Before he could even turn the gun on her, he felt the point of her knife at the base of his neck, pushing down, drawing blood—and he knew that she wanted to plunge it deep. He froze, allowing her to place his fingers in position, his palm over the handle. Then guiding his index finger, she fired a random shot. 

Then she was in front of him, sheathing her knife. She smiled sweetly as she patted his cheek. “There. Now it’s your fault that everyone is dead. Gun shot residue, blah, blah, woof, woof. Plus it’s your gun.” 

With an unexpected right hook, and an elbow strike, Max knocked him out cold before she even finished talking. He collapsed, still holding the gun. 

She stood up, dusting her jeans, and walked away. 

“Genius really. Thank you White.”

* * *

It was not a random shot.

“What the fuck Max!” Cindy heard Logan swearing before he fell to his knees, clutching his bleeding thigh. “I know you have better aim!”

She blinked in dismay when she realized where the last bullet went. Maybe Logan would learn his lesson and just shut up? Wasn’t it bad enough that his outrageous behavior had caused Alec to walk out the door?

But Logan was not one to let things go. It was so deeply ingrained in his character that it might have been a flaw. But Cindy hoped anyway. She didn’t want to see anyone else dead, even if he was the reason that they were knee deep in Max’s bloody brand of justice.

* * *

Max crouched in front of Logan, examining his leg, but not touching him. When White had injected the cure into her bloodstream, she’d been livid. She didn’t ask for the cure—and she sure as hell didn’t want it forced into her.

But now she was grateful. Now she could do something she’d never been able to.

Teach Logan a lesson.

* * *

“Hey Max.” Logan grimaced when he tried to straighten his leg. “I’m sorry I yelled. I know you didn’t mean to shoot me.” He took a deep breath. “I was just surprised.” He reached out to her, hoping she’d accept his touch.

“We can be together now, right?” Clear blue eyes searched out hers—only to meet with an unreadable brown stare. “You’re not mad about Alec, are you?”

He sighed in relief when he grasped her hand—and she didn’t pull away. He watched her tentatively, stroking her hand—and at the same time, studying his own skin, making sure that he didn’t suddenly break out in hives, or boils, or whatever the hell it was.

Logan always made a clear distinction between right and wrong. He knew that he was right to fight for Max—that she had needed help to see that Alec wrong for her. Alec was second fiddle after all. She chose Logan first. With all the games she had played to make certain that he stayed safe—he knew that Max loved him as deeply as he loved her.

* * *

Original Cindy was not prepared for the strange turn of events. When Logan had reached for Max, she thought for sure her boo would knock him unconscious—at the very least. Instead, Max was practically holding hands with him.

It was enough to make her nauseous.

It could also be that the sight of dead bodies was starting to wear thin on her. She hadn’t eaten in two days—and the smell in the warehouse was a mix of rotten fish and vomit. It was not a good smell.

She thought for sure she’d have to console Max for losing Alec. But now it seemed she might have to celebrate Max’s reunion with Logan?

She shook her head. 

The world was upside down indeed.

* * *

Alec had stopped breathing when Logan started touching Max. He waited for Max to push him away, to yell at him—to do something to prove that she still had some kind of backbone.

But all she did was look at him. And if Alec had been observant (instead of jealous), he’d have noticed that Max wasn’t really looking at him. He’d have noticed that Max was trying to figure out Logan’s pain threshold. 

It was something she liked to do before she tried to beat Alec senseless. She usually had an idea of how long she wanted to fight him. Sometimes, it was an unreasonable length of time—in which case, he was happy to turn the tables and end the fight. He usually only had to say something ridiculous to make her laugh—and if that failed, kissing always worked.

His jaw dropped when Max started leaning forward—

Was she about to kiss Logan?

* * *

Cindy stared in amazement as her boo went in for a kiss. Was she out of her mind? Did she forget Alec so easily? Was this some kind of demented mind game?

Bewildered, she watched Max drop the lightest of kisses on his mouth. She watched Logan smile in relief. And she heard the happiness when he spoke. “I’m so glad you forgive me. I’m so happy Max. I love you so much.”

What shocked her more was Max’s response. If she thought she knew her boo, maybe she didn’t know her so well. Didn’t she prove that with her mad usage of guns?

* * *

Max rocked back on her heels, touching her lips absently. Then she turned her full attention on Logan. It was time to come clean.

“I’m already cured Logan. My blood beat this virus bitch months ago. I should have told you. This is all my fault.”

Max raised a hand to stop Logan from interrupting. She couldn’t waste time listening to anymore ludicrous logic. Her breathing was a bit erratic from the poison, and she needed to get this out before the next wave of symptoms hit her. The adrenaline was helping her—and if she was honest—so was her rage. 

“Shhh.” She leaned in close, watching his eyes flicker uncertainly. “You did all the talking when Alec was here. It’s my turn.”

* * *

Max didn’t need the cure after all?

Logan had a hard time processing. He had suffered through sleepless nights, wondering if he could give up Alec for Max. And each time, he knew that he would choose Max. Not that Alec was a bad guy—but Logan had loved her first. And he knew that Max loved him.

So why hadn’t she told him then? Why had she kicked him out of TC?

For the first time, Logan felt doubt creeping in.

* * *

Max took a moment to allow Logan’s betrayal to wash over her. She embraced the gut-wrenching ache of it. She would stop protecting Logan now. She would release him—and release herself too.

She let the words flow out, quietly freeing herself from the prison she built.

“I forgive you for lying to me. For conspiring with White. For putting Alec in danger, even when you knew how important he was to me.” She touched the wound on his thigh, and slowly, she pushed down, watching him flinch and gasp when the pain worsened.

“I forgive you for making a fool out of me. For putting on that obscene show, pretending like I knew all along.” She took her hand off his leg and looked at the blood staining her fingers. Then she caressed his face, wiping the blood on his cheek, and across his lips.

“I forgive you for curing me. Even though I didn’t need it. Even though I didn’t want it.” She placed both hands on his throat, gently massaging with her thumbs. She watched him open his mouth to protest.

“Don’t talk. I’m not done forgiving you.” She relaxed her hold on his neck.

“I forgive you for loving me. For destroying me with that love. For destroying any love Alec had for me.” She increased the pressure on his throat, watching his eyes widen in panic. Carefully she let go.

“Hey.” She waited until he met her gaze. She leaned her forehead on his, staring deep into his blue eyes. 

“I forgive you everything. Will you forgive me killing you?”

* * *

Cindy was speechless. She had never seen Max in this quiet kind of fury. It was frightening really. And thankfully, that kiss was just another mind game—because Max was so good at those.

But this—this was a whole new level of crazy. Ending Logan’s life? Even she knew that Max would not come back from this.

Carefully, she moved until she was in Max’s line of vision. Then she waved her hands, waiting for Max to acknowledge her.

“Boo? I need you to look at me. Please boo.” Cindy held her breath, hoping that Max wasn’t lost to her. “He’s not worth it. You are better than this.” She scooted closer to Max. “We’ll get Alec back, I promise. We just need to talk to him. It’ll be ok.”

And when Max finally looked at Cindy, she breathed a sigh of relief—until she heard Max speak and shake her head. Her voice was low—and defeated.

It didn’t sound like Max at all. But her words were ominous—and final.

Original Cindy shivered, hoping that Alec was somewhere close by.

* * *

“Alec is gone. He is done with me.” She turned back to Logan. “Right? You made sure of that. You and White, plotting against me.”

But she released her hold on Logan. She smoothed his hair away from his face, even adjusting the glasses on his nose.

She tipped his chin upward, studying him from different angles. “Alec did a number on you. At least your nose stopped bleeding.” And she smiled when he cringed from her touch.

So she held his face with both hands, forcing him to look at her. She wasn’t sure what she expected to see, but it wasn’t the flicker of surprise—or hope.

* * *

“Damn. Lost audio again.” Alec heard Dix cursing. “Our equipment sucks.” He watched Dix turn away from the monitor, sifting through cables nearby.

Alec stared at the monitor, wondering if he was seeing things. He hoped he was already under. If he wasn’t, then the reality was not good. Two figures were sneaking up on Max from behind.

Cindy was busy trying to talk Max down. She was not aware of her surroundings.

Max was busy trying not to kill Logan.

Logan was the only one with clear sight. He saw the two guards coming up on Max. And for once, Logan was not talking.

Alec tried to open his mouth, only to realize that the paralytic had finally kicked in. No sound came out.

* * *

Cindy was not expecting to crash into the crates nearby. It hurt. And her hair was messed up for sure.

She looked up in time to see two guards collapse just a few feet away. She blinked in surprise. Where did those fools come from? And didn’t anyone know enough not to bother Max when she was in a killing mood?

She winced, sitting up slowly, pushing some hair out of her mouth. She looked at Max, worried that more dead bodies would destroy whatever conscience she had left. But Max didn’t appeared disturbed at all. 

She mostly looked—annoyed?

* * *

Alec was stunned. He wasn’t sure how Max knew, but she did. She had turned just in time to shove Cindy out of the way and shoot the man directly behind her. 

She should have been dead though. Because the other guard had been coming up on her blindside, a gun also trained on her.

But at the same time she had taken the shot, she had also thrown a knife with her other hand. It hit the man square in the chest. He dropped to his knees in surprise, still clutching the gun.

* * *

Logan watched in disappointment, as both guards fell to the ground, neither one able to stop Max. He had seen her smile when she had fixed his glasses. He thought for sure he was a dead man. But he had seen the two men come in from the outside, guards forgotten as they had been patrolling the grounds.

He never considered that Max would anticipate more attacks, ready to kill again. He thought she had been letting her guard down, especially when she’d been talking so much about forgiveness. 

Come to think of it, she’d never talked so much before.

He wasn’t dead yet. So maybe he still had a chance of making it out alive. Max had loved him before. She must still feel something for him, right?

He watched Max move with ease, not at all concerned about taking another life. He watched her put the safety back on, before she tucked the gun into her waistband. He studied the gun, wondering how she had found another gun so quickly.

And even though he knew better, he started cursing, his entire body shaking in distress. He had to calm down before he spoke. He had to. But all he managed to do was utter in disbelief—

“Is that my gun Max?”

* * *

Cindy watched Max carefully turn the gun over in her hands. She examined the handle, studying the initials engraved on it. Even Cindy could see the giant “L.C.” tattooed on it. And she was sitting on the dusty floor with a massive headache and blurry vision.

And just as she did before, Max wiped her prints from the gun. She watched as Max almost casually walked over to Logan, intent on scaring the shit out of him. She wasn’t sure she could take much more of this.

Either Logan was a dead man—or not. She just wanted to get out of this miserable place and soak in a hot tub.

* * *

“You want it back right?” Max reached for his hand, even as he jerked away from her. “Relax.” She forced his fingers in position. “Unless you’re fighting me.” She tilted her head, considering the situation. “Are you?”

She watched Logan weigh his options. She watched his eyes blink furiously, scattering across the room, looking for escape. She had already scanned the room. No one was left. So she waited patiently.

When he shook his head in defeat, she smiled and patted his cheek. “Good boy.” Keeping one hand on his gun hand, she maneuvered her body behind his. “Then we just need to point and shoot—“

A sudden movement startled them both.

* * *

Alec watched helpless, as the last chapter unfolded.

The guard with the knife wound wasn’t dead after all. He struggled to stand up.

The gun in Logan’s hand aimed and fired.

He watched Logan look to Max in shock.

“Perfect shot Logan. And with your prints too.”

He heard the calm in Max’s voice. When she should have been horrified at taking yet another life—

She sounded bored.

* * *

“Were you going to warn me Logan?” Max hauled Logan to his feet, forcing him to put weight on his injured leg.

“Of course I was!” She watched him sputter and avoid her gaze. 

She nodded toward Cindy. “My girl here, she pleads for your life. I don’t know that I agree—but I’ve murdered enough for one day. And in front of her too.” She wiped her hands on her jeans. “It must be traumatic, all that death in close proximity.” She looked at her hands, frowning at the bloodstains.

She stood up, surveying the damage all around her. She counted at least six bodies, not including the unconscious White.

“Make you a deal Logan.” She walked away from him and leaned against a wall. “I stop the body count right now, and Eyes Only is done. For good.” She paused, reading the wariness in his eyes. 

Then she went to a window, her back to all of them, and pulled out a cell phone lodged near the frame. Her muttering was low and mostly confusing. But both Cindy and Logan heard the last words.

“We’re recording right, Dix? Just edit out my killing spree and paint like Eyes Only planned it with White. Well, which he did.” Max broke off, turning to look at Logan, allowing the next words to flow easily. “Then we do a final Eyes Only broadcast. His retirement party if you will. You think it’ll fly?”

* * *

Max walked back to Logan, who was clutching his bloody thigh in shock. He should have been cowering, but he was shaking with anger. “You can’t just destroy me like that!”

She said nothing.

“After everything we’ve been through? Don’t do this.” She watched his brain go into overdrive, trying to determine the best way to convince her. And she knew, he would go for the guilt. And any other time, maybe it would have worked. But right now, she was just exhausted—physically, mentally, emotionally. She was tapped out.

“You love me Max. I know you do. Even though you betrayed me and slept with Alec. Even though you broke my heart. I forgive you. I love you.” She heard the conviction—and the desperation—in his voice. He believed everything he was saying.

She breathed in his scent, wondering how she had loved him for so long, only to realize that she didn’t know him at all. How she thought she could trust him, even when he proved that other people always came before her.

She wondered how, every time she loved someone, it always ended in disaster.

It was pathetic, really.

* * *

Alec was fighting for consciousness. The drugs had been coursing through his veins for 10 minutes at least. But he needed to know what Max was about to do. He needed to know that Max would not destroy herself like this—that she would not let Logan’s betrayal break her.

That Alec’s own betrayal would not break her.

Her voice, it was the same voice when she confessed to killing Ben. The disappointed, defeated, exhausted Max—the one who didn’t know how to keep going.

* * *

“This is my final forgiveness.” Max cupped his face gently, looking deep into his blue eyes. “I let you live—and Eyes Only dies.”

“And—“ She took a deep breath, almost unwilling to speak. “I forgive myself for loving you, wanting you for so long, and wasting my time believing you were someone you weren’t.” Then she kissed him on the forehead and carefully stepped back.

It was the last time she would ever see Logan.

* * *

Cindy had not moved after finding herself on the floor. She did manage to sit up, but that was all. It was entirely too much effort to stand up just to get knocked down again. Not that she thought there was more danger to be had. She surely hoped all the bad guys were out of commission already.

She looked up when she found Max crouching in front of her. She heard the small catch in her voice—and the regret too. “I’m so sorry Cindy.”

And even though she was cranky and tired—with some lopsided hair for sure—she pulled Max into a hug. “No apologies boo. You always take care of me. And you sure made fools out of them boys.”

She felt Max tighten her arms before she let go.

* * *

Max sat on her bike, watching the moonlight reflect off the waves, the harbor soothing and peaceful. It was so quiet—like the entire nightmare in the warehouse had never happened. Like Logan hadn’t betrayed her. Like Alec hadn’t walked out on her.

She looked at the cell phone cradled in her blood stained hands. She had one more call to make before she tossed it into the harbor.

* * *

“You got Alec clean?” Max spoke first, not wanting to extend the conversation. 

“Tracker finally came in handy.” Mole grunted.

“I’m going dark in 10.” Max closed her eyes, the night stars suddenly too bright for her. “I’m going to pass out and be immobile for awhile.”

“Why?” Mole sounded confused.

“I’m having a reaction to the injection.” Max rubbed her chest absently, counting her breaths.

“To the cure?” Mole still sounded confused.

“To the arsenic.” Max smiled, thinking that maybe it would just end her. Then, just to clarify—

“The cure was designed to kill me.”


	14. Lethal

Chapter 13 – Lethal 

Alec found himself sprawled face down on a mattress. His entire body ached, like he’d barely survived some intense bone-breaking battle—or maybe someone had just dropped him six stories from a tall building.

He waited for Max to come into the room. She was pretty thorough in checking his vitals—especially after she’d drugged him up good. And this—it felt like one of Max’s concoctions—some crazy mix of drugs meant to slow him down—paralyze him—then knock him out cold.

It was 10 minutes of quiet before Alec realized something was wrong. His brain finally kicked in—and he took a deep breath, searching for any trace of Max, hoping for the scent of cherry and vanilla.

Max wasn’t anywhere near him—and hadn’t been for awhile now.

* * *

Mole paced in front of the main screen. “Any sign of her?”

Dix shook his head. “Unless you put a tracker on her—she’s in the wind.”

Mole kicked a nearby chair, letting loose some new curse words that even Dix didn’t know. “What about princess?”

“It’s been 36 hours.” Dix shrugged. “A drooly mess and not dead.”

Mole grunted before he took another puff of cigar. “You gonna check on him?”

“Hell no. He’s gonna go ballistic.” Dix forgot he was holding the mouse and waved it at him. “You do it.”

“No way.” Mole waved his cigar at Dix. “You thought it was bad when it was Max and no Alec? Alec without Max is worse. He’s gonna kill everyone.”

* * *

Alec wiped the saliva off his cheek, squinting against the brightness of the sun. How long had he been out anyway?

He rolled over, thinking he was in the middle of the bed. Too bad he wasn’t. With a resounding thud, his body crashed onto the floor, his head bouncing off the carpet, his teeth rattling from the impact of it.

Tasting blood, he let loose a litany of curses. Did he just bust his lip?

* * *

Everyone got out of his way even before they saw him. Alec was rarely in a bad mood—but when he was, it was an unwritten rule to vanish, quickly and quietly. He had a tendency to break things, leaving total wreckage behind him—before he calmed down.

The only one who wasn’t afraid of Alec was Max—and she was nowhere in TC. She’d been gone for days. And no one was brave enough to tell him.

Instead, they heard him bellowing, and they knew what to do—scatter and evade.

“Max! Goddammit woman! You better be soaking in a hot bath somewhere! Stop hiding from me!”

* * *

Alec didn’t bother opening the door to command. He simply kicked it, the frame splintering, metal hinges flying, annoyed that everyone was avoiding him. 

Just where the hell was she anyway?

He eyed Mole suspiciously before speaking. “Where is Max?”

“Gone.” Mole just shrugged before puffing on his cigar. “Who knows? It took Lydecker 10 years to find her.” 

“Well fuck!” Alec snapped before punching a hole into the nearest wall. “I’m not waiting 10 years to find Max! I need her now!”

* * *

“Listen, you can’t blame her for disappearing. Everyone pretty much turned on her.” Mole watched Alec pace back and forth, rubbing his face and muttering words in a foreign language. “Who was she supposed to trust?” 

“She was supposed to trust me.” Alec stopped moving, meeting his stare evenly.

Mole nodded in agreement. “And she did. She even mumbled things about Tuesday, like that would make any sense to me. But she didn’t seem worried that you would believe White or Logan or anyone else for that matter.”

Mole sat on the edge of the desk, watching Alec resume his pacing. “All she wanted was to get you both out. She said she wasn’t going to do a Sophie’s Choice, whatever that means.”

“She took a risk. She got everyone out. Then you fucked it up.” Mole forgot that Alec had a temper. He didn’t even see Alec throw the punch. He only knew that the desk was over there—and he was over here, on the ground, his jaw suddenly numb, little points of light blinking around him. He didn’t even notice his cigar rolling away from him.

“How can you say that to me?” Then he heard Alec hiss at him, clearly shocked that Mole would side with Max. 

“Because all she’s ever done is try to keep you safe. Anytime she thinks you’re in danger, she flies off the handle.” Mole wiggled his jaw in all directions, not appreciating the blow at all. “Your first date with Logan? She wanted to take me out. But she quit instead.” He sat up carefully, meeting Alec’s glare with his own, deciding he was done protecting his feelings.

“Do you know why? Because she felt betrayed.” He studied Alec, watching his fists clenching with impatience, wondering when the next hit would come.

“And here’s the kicker. She turned on me because you asked me to. You asked me to lie to her. And I did.” He pointed a scaly finger at Alec. “I chose you over Max.”

“And you—“ He snorted and stood up, shoving Alec out of the way. “You chose Logan over Max.” He was already walking away when he added the final touch.

“Let that sink in princess.”

* * *

It took three days for Alec to calm down—and not kill Mole for stating the obvious. He winced every time he realized that he had chosen Logan over Max. And when he figured out the one person who would never betray Max, he knew exactly where to find her.

So one hour after his epiphany, Alec stood outside the apartment of Original Cindy. He heard the soft voices and giggles, and suddenly he was nervous. What if Max just started yelling and tried to crush the wall with his face?

Then he blinked, happiness washing over him, knowing that her temper was a good thing. It meant she still cared—even if she wanted to kill him.

He rapped his knuckles on the door, counting the seconds, smiling when he heard footsteps approaching. Max would totally beat him up—and he’d probably enjoy it too.

* * *

Original Cindy heard the knock on the door—and figuring it must be the pizza she just ordered, she didn’t bother to ask who it was. She swung the door open, her cash in one hand, the other hand still resting on the doorknob.

It was definitely not the delivery guy.

She smiled big—before she reared back, and putting all of her weight into it (just like Max taught her)—she threw a powerful punch into someone’s very pretty face.

* * *

“Goddammit Cindy. That’s a mean right hook you got.” Alec actually staggered, his hand in front of him, trying to block anymore shots.

“Boy, unless you about to come correct for being a dumbass and hurting my boo—Original Cindy got no need to associate with you.” Her words were sharp and to the point.

Then she slammed the door on his face.

* * *

Alec sat at Max’s desk, leaning back in her rickety chair, a bag of frozen peas on his bruised cheek. The visit to Cindy had been a bust. She had pretty much cussed him out and told him to go away. She didn’t know where Max was either—and he wasn’t allowed to come back until he had Max in tow. 

He’d spent a day digging through Max’s apartment—and found nothing remotely interesting. Except for a secret stash of pork rinds in the back of her closet. Which made no sense because Max hated those things.

He shook his head, and the frozen peas slid off, landing on a pile of notebooks. Bending over, he picked one up, absently flipping through pages, not seeing anything. Then he let the notebook drop, frowning when he realized he’d not searched her office.

Had Max left any clues here?

He looked around, not surprised that it was a total mess. Papers stacked haphazardly, books on the floor, a coffee mug under her desk. It reminded him of when she undressed, tossing articles of clothing in every direction, uncaring where anything landed. He smiled at the memory before he caught his breath, knowing that it was entirely possible he would never see her make a mess again.

Carefully, he cleared his mind, refusing to believe that. And to distract himself, he automatically started sorting papers, cleaning the top of her desk. He made a recycle pile, a trash pile, and a keep pile. When he finally saw the smooth surface of her desk, he found himself tracing words Max had scratched into the wood.

He opened the top drawer, finding the small penknife she must have used. Carefully, he carved a familiar shape between their names. Max had engraved her name on the left side, leaving an odd gap—before adding his name on the right.

Christ, he missed her. Now he was carving hearts like a romantic idiot.

* * *

“What’s this Mole?” Alec waved spiral notebooks at Mole. “I have about 10 of them, all with random numbers and letters.”

Mole squinted at him, not even looking at the notebooks. “Does it have anything to do with her bloody Sunday hand?”

“Good God, what does that mean?” Alec stopped waving the notebooks.

“Right, you don’t know.” Mole turned away, already dismissing Alec. “Probably why she took the shift right after you, so you wouldn’t notice.” 

“Explain before I toss you out the window.” Alec growled, throwing the notebooks at back of Mole’s head.

* * *

Alec sat in silence, mulling over Mole’s words. Nothing made sense. How did the cutting relate to the notebooks?

What did the numbers and letters mean?

He at least figured out the order of the notebooks. She had a cryptic way of dating her work, but he found a pattern to her numbers. As far as he could tell, she started keeping notebooks a few weeks after they’d made their stand for Terminal City.

* * *

Alec spent a week holed up in Max’s office. He was missing something, he was sure of it. He scanned the room, looking at the walls, the old sofa, the mini refrigerator—

He blinked, his gaze swinging back to the corner, wondering how he’d missed the small appliance. He rubbed the back of his neck, thinking a cool drink would be nice. Maybe she left a bottle of water for him—or a can of soda?

He needed a quick sugar high—and besides, he was a reformed alcoholic. He wasn’t drinking anymore scotch—because he’d been drugged too many times. He was still pissed about it. He wasn’t sure when Max had turned into a mad scientist, knowing which drugs to mix to get the desired effects.

Exactly how would she test that anyway?

He pulled open the fridge, expecting to find something to quench his thirst. Instead he found small vials of blood, neatly arranged. Each vial was clearly marked, mapping to dates in her notebook. Instinctively, he knew whose blood he was holding. He knew that Max had been testing her blood against Logan’s, trying to find the cure herself.

He pulled a notebook from the pile, turning to the last page with Max’s writing, looking at her numbers. He worked backwards, studying her numbers, checking the dates, realizing that her numbers steadily decreased as he got closer to the front of the notebook.

He sat abruptly, understanding that Max had been counting seconds and minutes, watching her blood react to Logan’s. And doing the math for the last few pages, he converted her numbers—and found that she had counted hours, finally stopping on the same number each time—14400.

That was four hours of Max watching and counting her fresh blood mixing with Logan’s. Four hours until Max gave up waiting for her blood to take over.

* * *

Mole stood over Alec, looking at the heaps of notebooks on the floor. Then he peered in the mini fridge. “That’s a lot of blood in there.” He wrinkled his nose, before pointing to the second shelf. “But that’s not blood.”

Alec seemed startled. He watched Alec pull out the small glass bottles, each one carefully labeled. He heard him swear, before he dropped his head in his hands, muttering about the stupidity of Max.

* * *

Alec felt a burning in his chest, his heartbeat speeding up when he started reading labels. She had a collection of sedatives and painkillers and paralytic agents. He stared at the labels, knowing that he’d seen the names in her notebook—but in different form.

He knew exactly what the grouping of letters and numbers meant now.

“These are chemical formulas.” His throat tightened up, knowing that Max had mixed ratios, injecting them directly into her blood stream, testing the effectiveness of whatever concoction she came up with. She had probably set a timer, something small but reliable, something she could check when she came to. 

Nestled between two water bottles, he found a small Ziploc bag in the door shelf. It contained batteries and a bright yellow digital timer. He pushed a button, and the screen came to life, blinking 00:00:00 in green lights.

He matched all the chemical formulas in her notebook to the bottles in front of him. Everything was accounted for—until he remembered the one odd notebook that didn’t seem to have a numerical pattern at all.

* * *

“You ok princess?” Mole stared at a frozen Alec. He hadn’t moved after he’d lined the bottles up and started flipping through pages.

“You figure it out then?” Alec only nodded.

Mole reached into the back of the fridge, pulling out a small box. “What about this here? Is this in the notebooks too?”

Alec might have paled, but Mole said nothing. He only watched Alec reach for a different notebook, this one thinner than the others.

And when Alec finally spoke, Mole wasn’t surprised. But Alec sure was.

* * *

Alec took bottles out of the box, checking the names and converting them into their chemical formulas. He opened the last little notebook, hoping that he was wrong, knowing that the formulas would match to her messy scrawls.

“These are poisons. She injected cyanide and arsenic—and, and—“ Alec finally sputtered, closing the notebook. “I can’t look anymore.”

And instead of being horrified, Mole seemed rather calm about it. Alec looked at him, wondering what he wasn’t saying.

* * *

“Huh.” Mole scratched his head, staring at the notebook. “That makes sense. No wonder she wasn’t too worried about the arsenic in her system.”

Alec was speechless, his jaw hanging open—when he lost it, shouting at Mole. “What kind of fuckery are you talking about now?”

But Mole didn’t answer. Instead, he asked a question. “Does she list her symptoms after taking the arsenic?”

He eyed Alec’s sudden fist. “Just tell me. I need confirmation first.”

* * *

Alec visibly tensed, slowly reciting her list of symptoms. Why would Max do this to herself? There was every chance that she wouldn’t come out of each test alive.

“Burning. Hypersensitive to touch. Erratic breathing. Blurry vision. Headaches. Unconsciousness. Immobility.”

Alec checked the numbers. “After her dose, it took about two hours for the first symptoms to kick in.”

“Why are you so interested in the arsenic?” He looked up, staring at Mole. “What aren’t you saying?”

* * *

“Last time you saw Max, she was pumped full of arsenic.” Mole waved his cigar at the notebook. “White probably dosed her with more than her original test. I’m surprised she didn’t fall flat on her face.”

Then he crouched down, and took the notebook out of Alec’s stiff hands, randomly flipping through the pages. He paused on the last page, studying Max’s notes.

“What’s this?” He pointed to three different formulas. “There’s no data attached to any of these.”

* * *

The last time Alec had seen Max, he’d been spinning out of control. He hadn’t noticed any irregular breathing. He hadn’t listened for her heartbeat. He was usually so in sync with her, that he could tell something was wrong before she even spoke. Maybe she had looked paler than usual—and none too steady, come to think of it—

“She fell to her knees when White injected her.” Alec’s green eyes finally came to life, spitting fire and retribution. “Nothing makes Max fall like that. Even I have to work hard before she hits the ground.”

And his voice came in low with disbelief. “He pushed so much poison into her, she collapsed from the pain of it. And no one helped her.”

* * *

“Focus princess.” Mole tapped the notebook. “You’re three weeks behind. If you hadn’t wasted time tearing up TC and scaring every squirrel in the neighborhood—“

“We have no squirrels here!” Alec interrupted, jerked out of his arsenic revelation.

“I would have mentioned the poison, but you were so busy feeling sorry for yourself—“ He caught Alec’s fist before it hit his face.

“Pay attention. Decipher this last page. Maybe it’ll tell us something new.” Mole tapped the notebook again. “Because right now, you’re annoying. It’s like your brain stopped working when Max left. She was never this slow when she knew she had to find you.”

* * *

Alec snatched his hand back and bared his teeth at Mole. He was not a happy camper. He really wanted to beat his friend into the ground. That would make him feel better.

He grabbed the notebook, flipping to the last page, wondering if it could get any worse.

What hadn’t she tried anyway?

He started converting formulas, frozen when he realized what he was looking at.

“The first one is an anesthetic.” Alec spoke slowly, catching his breath. “You lose consciousness.” 

“The next one induces muscle paralysis and respiratory arrest.” Alec’s voice dropped to a hoarse whisper. “You stop breathing.”

“The last one stops the heart.” Alec met Mole’s gaze, his green eyes full of panic. “You’re dead.” 

“This is lethal.” He strode quickly to the door. “We need to find her now.”

* * *

“It’s all lethal princess. And Max will survive it.” Mole narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. “Probably.”

What was Alec so worried about anyway?

* * *

“It’s a lethal injection. As in, capital punishment, let’s kill you in a public way.” Alec’s hard gaze bored into Mole’s. “That kind of lethal injection. The kind you don’t come back from.” 

“She’s just insane enough to test her blood against it.” He heard Mole huff out his response.

“Good God, what for? If I’m reading this right—she was already cured _before_ she kicked Logan out of TC.” And when Alec said the words, he realized the enormity of his statement.

“She chose not to be with him—despite the cure. She didn’t want him after all.”

* * *

“You really are a moron.” Mole shook his head, pushing Alec out of the way, expecting him to follow.

Mole was already in the hallway, on his way back to command. “Are you coming or what? We need to find out which state has the next lethal injection.” He paused when he realized it was too quiet behind him. Alec was nowhere in sight.

_Was he still in her office, blubbering about the cure?_

He walked back into the room, dragging a stunned Alec with him. “Bet you my last cigar, Max is about to get her grubby hands on those drugs.” 

He got nothing but silence. He narrowed his eyes, staring at a useless Alec, still clutching a notebook. He was busy mumbling about the cure, that Max loved him the whole time, that he had been too slow to figure it out—and on and on it went.

“You want some gold stars for deciphering her notebooks?”

The joke fell flat. Which didn’t surprise Mole—because he was bred for desert warfare, not comedy. He shook his head—and finally lost patience.

“Snap out of it.” Then he whacked Alec upside the head, who automatically blinked at him. “No wonder she does this. It’s like an instant reboot.”

“Hey!” Alec only sputtered. He might have complained about giant lizards with no compassion—but Mole had stopped paying attention. He was done babying Alec.

* * *

It took about 15 minutes for everyone to agree on Texas. It was the closest state that still performed public executions. Then it was another five minutes of arguing when two different prisons popped up on the search.

“This one is closer to the border.” Mole jabbed his finger on the map. “Max is lazy. She won’t travel further than she has to.”

“This one has an execution next week.” Alec pointed to a different location. “She’s impatient. She won’t wait longer than she has to.”

Then Dix surprised everyone, reading out a Texas street address. “We just got an encrypted email. Here’s her rap sheet. She’s sitting on death row. She's scheduled for termination—in five days.”

Alec looked up from the map, suddenly suspicious. “Who would send us email like that? And why?”

Dix pulled up the raw email header, quickly extracting the IP address. He called out the numbers, knowing that they’d never received email from that particular machine. “Who is it?”

Alec froze, repeating the numbers in his head—and he knew who it was. He felt the surge of anger consuming him before he was able to focus. “That’s Logan’s backup machine.” He peered over Dix’s shoulder, quickly scanning the message. “That’s it?”

“What’s going on?” Mole looked from Dix to Alec. “Is the info legit or what?”

“Maybe.” Dix muttered, reading through Max’s rap sheet. “That’s some list of felonies. She must have some time travel powers. Or teleportation. Or she cloned herself.”

Alec wasn’t listening. He was staring at the one line Logan had included in the email. All it said was—

“Get her out.”


	15. Sedated

Chapter 14 – Sedated 

“She might be sedated.” The guard shook the keys loose, looking for the right one to open the door.

“What does that mean?” Alec blinked in surprise. Why would Max be sedated?

“She’s usually asleep during these lawyer meetings. She’s already gone through five attorneys. No one can get through to her.” The guard just shrugged carelessly. “You’re just wasting your time man.” 

“How much time will this get me?” Alec slipped a hundred dollar bill in his hand.

“All the time you want.” The guard pocketed the cash quickly.

But before Alec walked in, the guard stopped him. “And don’t be getting any fresh ideas. She’s easy on the eyes, but don’t let that fool you. Last time, the lawyer was late, and the guard, well—let’s just say he landed in the infirmary with three cracked ribs, a broken leg, and a severe concussion. He’s out on six weeks med leave.”

Alec had to smile at that. Max was still fighting then. Good girl.

* * * 

“Your new lawyer, Mr. Alec Mann.” The guard announced him, nodded once, before shutting the door behind him.

Max was leaning back in the chair, eyes closed, her feet up on table. Her elbows were on the armrests, one hand cradling her face, the other hand over her stomach. Her hair was a mess, falling everywhere—but all he could see were the leg irons around her ankles.

He could smell the drugs on her. She really was asleep. 

But Max was pretty damn impervious to any drug. With her special blood, she was probably closer to immortal.

He decided to wait it out. Whatever was in her system, it would pass soon. He was happy just to look at her, even if she was head-to-toe in glaring orange.

* * * 

Max opened her eyes sleepily. “Another Alec dream. But you’re wearing clothes this time. Which means you’ll just talk and talk.”

She closed her eyes and settled in. “No thanks.”

* * * 

So she was going to ignore him. Or pretend he wasn’t real?

And Alec did was he did best. He started talking, about who knows what, but enough so that she’d have to wake up and tell him to shut up.

It was a foolproof plan.

* * * 

Wow, this particular dream was terrible. 

So far Alec had explained the merits of Jean Claude Van Damme versus Steven Segal (who were these people?)—the difference between time travel and teleportation (what the hell?)—Dolly the Sheep, their predecessor (she had to disagree with that one)—the musical genius of Tupac and Snoop and Dr. Dre (actually, yes to this)—why his Duke was way better than her Ninja (seriously?)—

Max lost track after awhile, letting herself enjoy the rhythmic quality of his voice. It always soothed her, the deep rich tones, low and grumbly. She envisioned his perfect mouth, the shape of his lips, curving or smiling or, or—

She much preferred the dreams where Alec used his mouth for other things. 

She frowned. The drugs were beginning to wear off. She wasn’t quite ready to deal with the concrete walls of her jail cell. Or was she in another confidential client-attorney meeting?

Whatever. They were both boring.

* * * 

Alec smiled when he caught her frowning. It wouldn’t be long now.

She was going to wake up and jump into his arms and kiss him senseless.

That’s what he kept telling himself.

* * * 

Max rubbed the back of her neck, trying to work out the kinks. With her eyes still closed, she changed position, throwing her legs over an armrest, tucking into herself, her head resting against the back of the chair.

She almost smiled. Thank God the endless chatter from radio Alec was gone. Maybe he would do something interesting instead.

* * * 

As soon as she moved, Alec stopped talking. He thought for sure she would wake up. But all she did was somehow curl up into the chair, her legs hanging off the side.

He looked at the wall clock. Christ, had he really been talking for 52 minutes straight? That was almost an hour. No wonder his jaw hurt.

But what hurt more was being so near to Max—and not being able to touch her. He let his gaze travel over her, knowing that she had just relaxed into her new position—and dammit, it could be another hour before she woke up.

He stood up abruptly. There was only a table between them. He was done waiting.

* * * 

Max felt Alec’s hand on her cheek. She sighed and leaned into his touch. She loved when he did this, his fingers so gentle, tracing her mouth, her nose, even her eyelids. Then she felt his thumb caressing her jaw—and she thought—

 _This dream was perfect—Alec, just quiet and loving._  
  
That was all she needed.

* * * 

Alec caught his breath when he realized that Max wasn’t pushing him away. Granted, she wasn’t quite awake—or maybe she wasn’t ready to be awake.

She had turned into his hand, nuzzling close, and sighing like she did after they’d made love. This was Max without her walls, trusting Alec to keep her safe.

And while he loved to watch her sleep, he also needed to hear her voice. Because all the weeks of no Max in his life—that’s what he missed the most. Just talking to her, being in her company, teasing her, annoying her—

Everything that they were to each other before they even kissed.

* * * 

“This one, near your jaw, it’s sexy, this mole.” She felt his fingers stroking her there. “But this one, this tiny one above your lip—this one is so distracting.” His fingers moved to her top lip, his touch feather light.

And her eyes flew open.

“Are you kidding me?” She couldn’t stop the words from escaping. “You have like a hundred freckles on your face.” 

“More like 26. If you want to count them.” His deep voice was solemn, intent green eyes boring into her startled brown ones.

“That sounds surprisingly accurate.” Max blinked slowly, wondering if she had finally lost her mind. Was Alec really here?

He was sitting on the edge of the table—and his thumb was brushing against her cheek, back and forth, just waiting for her to react.

She eyed him skeptically—before she took his hand, her fingers skimming his, her thumb sweeping across his palm. Then slowly—almost lovingly—she placed his hand against her neck, carefully arranging his fingers.

“The last time we saw each other, you had your hand around my throat.” Max spoke quietly. “Are you here to finish the job?”

* * * 

He had closed his eyes, enjoying the simple act of Max touching his hand. He hadn’t been paying attention to what she was doing. So when he found his hand wrapped around her throat, about to choke her—he caught his breath.

This was no loving touch. Max was going to punish him.

“I wanted to kill you.” He nodded slowly. “You forgot to fight me.”

He waited for her temper to kick in, for some sharp insult, for a fist to find his face—but nothing happened. Instead, all she did was smile warmly, those big brown eyes lighting up—and he thought maybe he was wrong. Maybe Max could forgive him leaving. 

But all she did was lean forward and whisper—

“You forgot you loved me.”

* * * 

Max watched the surprise and hurt flicker through his green eyes. She almost felt guilty—almost. She closed her eyes, suddenly tired. She didn’t want to do this with Alec. She didn’t want to do this at all.

Then she felt a subtle shift in his body—and she looked up to meet his gaze.

Was that defeat in his eyes? Or maybe just anger?

Except, his hand trembled when he carefully loosened his hold—and instead of circling her throat, his fingers cradled the back of her head, skimming her barcode—and his thumb swept up her jawline, caressing her cheek.

He used to do that, just before he would press his forehead against hers, just before he kissed her. This time, he only looked at her mouth—before he dragged his eyes to meet hers. His green eyes shone with love and hope—and misery too—before he let his hand fall away.

She thought he would turn around and walk out the door.

She was prepared for it. He’d done it before.

Still she closed her eyes, not wanting to see him leave her again.

* * * 

He’d hurt her deeply. He didn’t know how to make it right.

So he decided to focus on the things he could do. And right now, he hated seeing Max in shackles. So reluctantly, he broke contact, and reaching for his tools, he picked the locks with no real effort at all. He pried open the iron cuffs and let them fall harmlessly to the ground.

Then he moved her legs off the armrest, and crouching in front of her, he gently placed them on the floor. He left his hands on her ankles, massaging tenderly, easing the discomfort of where the shackles had been. He let go—and slowly, his hands moved up the sides of her calves and past her knees—until he let go again. This time his arms skimmed the sides of her thighs before stopping—and just resting right there on the seat of her chair. 

And because he didn’t know what else to do, he sank to his knees and laid his head on her lap. He stayed still, inhaling the scent of Max, needing her touch, needing to know that he mattered even a little bit.

* * * 

Max was stunned. She had watched him release her ankle cuffs—unclear why he cared at all. And if that wasn’t enough, now he was on his knees in front of her, his cheek resting on her lap, his neck exposed to her.

What was she supposed to do when Alec was like this?

She had felt his fingers soothing her sore ankles, gently stroking her skin, expecting nothing from her. His hands had traveled up her legs—only to rest by her thighs. She couldn’t remember Alec ever being this vulnerable with her.

And suddenly it hurt—to know that she had reduced him to this.

Alec was a proud man. He should never be on his knees for anyone. But he would do this for her. She could take his life right now—and he wouldn’t stop her.

He was giving her exactly what she gave him—when Alec held her by the throat.

A choice to love him—or kill him.

* * * 

Alec wasn’t sure how long he stayed like that. It was enough that she hadn’t pushed him away. It was enough to be near her, to hear her breathing—even if she couldn’t forgive him. At least he had this, right? It was a little bit of solace.

When she finally stirred, he wasn’t sure what to expect. He only knew that he wasn’t expecting to feel her hands running through his hair, fingertips lingering on his scalp, soothing him. And when he felt her fingers grazing his barcode, he couldn’t control the shudder. Only Max had ever touched him there.

* * * 

Max gave into her need to touch him. She missed this—his nearness, his scent, his everything. And he didn’t seem to be in any hurry to move. So she enjoyed the silence he offered, the trust he put in her hands, the love he never took from her after all.

* * * 

Alec heard the buzzing of his cell phone. It was probably Mole, wondering where he was. He was already an hour behind schedule. But if Max wasn’t going to leave, then maybe he’d just stay here with her. She smelled nice, and she wasn’t yelling at him.

And she hadn’t even killed him yet.

He had plenty of time.

* * * 

“You want to answer that?” She caught the phone before it buzzed right off the table. She looked at the phone in her hand—and the top of Alec’s head. He hadn’t moved at all. Was he asleep?

Sighing, she stopping touching him, waiting for him to raise his head and look at her. When he finally did, she saw the fabric wrinkles imprinted on his cheek, from being on her lap too long. He looked so disappointed that the accidental head massage was over.

“Go back to your chair Alec.”

She thought he would protest, but all he did was nod.

* * * 

Alec sat down, hating that the table was between them again. He wanted to be near her. He was three feet away from her—and it was too far.

He sat in silence, waiting for Max to make the first move, but all she did was watch him. And he couldn’t stand it anymore. He was miserable without her. It took forever to figure out where she was hiding—and of all places—she was here, on death row? Well, she was done experimenting with all the drugs—even if she didn’t know it yet. 

And because he had nothing to lose—he decided to lay everything on the line. Either Max would reject him—or she wouldn’t.

* * * 

Max wasn’t sure what to do. It had never been this quiet between them. So when he finally spoke, she was surprised.

* * * 

“Are you about ready to blow this joint? Because I have this movie you gotta see. I’ve had it for months and months. It’s just that I got kidnapped, then my girl had to rescue me all by herself, then of course, she hid me in the sleaziest motels she could find—well, I always knew she wanted me, but she was just shy you know—and, after I let her have her way with me—we had a few more adventures—and by the way, tag is a very dangerous game. I don’t recommend it at all. And don’t let her near your bike. She will tear it apart with a paperclip. And definitely stay away from swans—I still think they’re geese—they will kill you. And don’t forget—“

He watched her stand up, her hand on her jumpsuit—and his mind blanked, completely erasing any thought.

What was she doing?

* * * 

Max had ceased listening to his recap. She unzipped the orange jump suit and let it slip off her body. She stepped out of the puddle of orange, and kicked it across the room. Then she leaned one shoulder against the wall, one hand running through her hair, trying to detangle the mess, while the other hand rested lightly on her hip.

“The fabric is pretty rough. And the color clashes with my skin. I need to talk to someone about the fashion here. Even I know it sucks.”

She watched him open and close his mouth, but nothing happened.

Had he finally run out of words?

* * * 

The orange jumpsuit was so baggy, she managed to get out of it without removing her boots. And the stark contrast of Max’s worn out combat boots—and her delicate bra and panties was almost Alec’s undoing. He knew that he should have been looking deep into her eyes, trying to convince her that he loved her to no end. 

But—

 _Goddammit._  
  
He hadn’t seen her in over a month—and that was exactly 32 days, 17 hours, eight minutes—and some seconds. He might have lost track when he caught sight of all the unexpected skin, all smooth and perfect—just waiting to be touched.

But Max wasn’t radiating any come hither vibes. Her body, although relaxed, was actually her fight stance. When she held herself that loose, he knew she was about to unwind and hurt someone good.

Except Max did not move. It was like she was waiting for him to—

Do what exactly?

Not that he cared. Max wasn’t fighting him—and he was so enjoying the view. He let his gaze roam freely over her body. And when he heard her voice, he finally allowed himself to look into her eyes, and he could not read her at all.

* * * 

She waited patiently for Alec to find her face. Except, he seemed to be taking his time. And Max knew, when he was like this—

Then she could be waiting forever.

So she spoke first, amused (because it was hard to render him speechless) and annoyed (because the AC was running full blast and she was getting cold).

“While I appreciate all the leering—“ Max narrowed her gaze at him. “I need to—“

Alec snapped out of his trance to interrupt her. He even met her gaze this time.

“I’m not leering!” Alec waved his hands wildly over the length of her body. “I am admiring.” He whistled slowly. “Maybe I’m leering a little. Or a lot.”

“Whatever.” Max realized she should have asked for the getaway clothes before taking off the jumpsuit. “You got jeans and a t-shirt for me? Something? Because I’m not leaving looking like a giant pumpkin.”

“What?” Alec mumbled. And Max caught him staring at her belly button. Or somewhere in the area. She watched him shake his head.

“Listen.” Max spoke slowly and loudly. Like he was some deaf four-year-old bent on misbehaving. “Even when I pulled us out of Seattle, I had a go bag for you. Spare clothes, shoes, weapons—dammit, I even put pork rinds in there."

"Do you have clothes for me or not?" Max crossed her arms in front of her, waiting for his response.

* * * 

Alec wasn’t paying attention. All he heard was “clothes” and “pork rinds.” It was an odd combination of words. And he liked the way she crossed her arms like that. The action only enhanced her natural assets, and he really wanted to bury his face in that very nice rack of hers.

But it was suddenly silent, and Alec knew he had to focus. So he forced his mind to connect the dots—and realized that Max expected non-prison gear to miraculously appear out of nowhere. 

So he spoke slowly, deliberately, playing for time.

“I have your clothes. In a backpack. On my bike.” Alec found himself staring at the mole near her jaw. He loved that little mole. But his favorite was still the tiny one just above her lip.

* * * 

“Please tell me your bike is parked in the hallway.” Max stared at him, wondering if he was lying about the clothes.

“It is parked a few miles away from the perimeter.” She listened to his careful answer—and heard how perfectly he enunciated each word. Yeah, he was definitely lying.

“I guess I could go out like this.” Max flipped her hair and shrugged. “Because I’m not putting the jumpsuit back on. It’s just too ugly.”

“You cannot go out like that!” Alec couldn’t keep the panic out of his voice. “I would have to kill everyone who looks at you.” 

Max placed both hands on her hips, narrowing her gaze at him. “Then give me something to wear.”

“I only have the clothes I’m wearing.” Alec actually looked inside his jacket like he forgot her jeans in there. He blinked in sorrow when he came up empty. Then rubbing his face, he found her waiting patiently. “You want the shirt ... off my back?”

* * * 

Was she serious? Why couldn’t she put the jumpsuit back on? It wasn’t that ugly—as long as he didn’t have to look at her.

But he liked to look at her—and he’d have to keep a close watch on her too. She was liable to sneak away and break into some other prison. In which case, the orange jumpsuit would come in handy because he’d be able to spot her a mile away.

He glanced at her, about to complain and insist she put it back on—when he caught the odd look on her face—like she expected him to refuse her. Like she wanted him to refuse her. 

Then he remembered—

The last time he refused her—it tore them apart.

* * * 

Alec should have been a stripper. The way he moved, the way he so casually shrugged out of the jacket, and folded it so neatly—

And that was just the jacket. Who would have thought a boring navy blazer would be so exciting? Damn, it even had pinstripes on it.

While Max tried to control her errant thoughts about stripping Alec herself, she watched as he carefully undid each French cuff. She caught herself staring at his fingers, wondering how they would feel on her instead, if they would remember how to make her scream his name—

Now he was moving those same fingers over the tiny buttons of this shirt. Her breath caught when he exposed more skin, until the shirt just hung open, exposing his chest and abdomen. Max really wanted to touch him, run her fingers over his skin, make him scream her name—

Then Alec was just standing there, letting her look her fill. And when she thought he would be smirking at her, he wasn’t. Instead, he was studying her, a very serious look on his face, his hazel eyes changing into a dark golden color. 

That should have been her warning. That particular shade of gold was dangerous. She’d only ever seen that color when he was inside her.

* * * 

Alec felt her stare, and he thought nothing of it. He’d undressed in front of Max plenty of times. She needed something to wear, and she wasn’t going out practically naked. There was only so much a man could take. And, just how many guards between them and the outside gate?

Yeah, too many.

Granted, all that Max skin would be a great diversion, except—

He was sure he’d waste more time beating up anyone looking at her. He really just wanted to take Max and go. If she would stop being so stubborn that is.

And because he actually liked the new Italian suit, he folded the jacket neatly before he undid the buttons on his sleeves. Only then did he look up—because he thought he heard a small gasp.

Was he imagining things?

So he forced himself to slow down and assess the situation. He heard her breathing change. He saw her eyes go slumberous. Her mouth was parted—in anticipation?

He wasn’t sure. He didn’t want to assume anything. So when he undid the final button on his shirt, he let it hang open for a moment. And he took in the sight of a very aroused Max.

He looked at the table between them. She wasn’t wearing much, and neither was he. He wanted her—but he didn’t want to scare her off. So while he wanted desperately to just drop Max on the table and have his way with her—

He dropped his shirt on the table instead.

* * * 

As Max reached for the shirt, she was surprised to find Alec's hand on top of hers. His fingers lingered and he turned her palm over. Gently he tugged, the atmosphere in the room suddenly heavy.

He pulled her against his body, her chest against his, her belly against his, legs brushing his, not quite touching.

His other hand found its way to her back, and moving leisurely, his fingers skimmed all that smoothness, until it rested on her hip—and cupping her backside, he pulled her even closer. Then he heard it, the swift intake of breath. And he felt the slight tremor before she caught herself.

Max was still susceptible to his touch.

He hadn’t lost her yet.

* * * 

Max forgot how much she loved the feel of Alec against her.

That she craved him—even when her mind rebelled.

And when he spoke, that beautiful voice of his reached down—capturing her soul, reminding her how very much she loved him, flaws and all.

She let go and felt herself falling into the love that only Alec knew how to give her.

* * * 

Slowly, tenderly, his hands moved up her back, molding her to his body. And he realized that Max was no longer holding back—but leaning against his chest, her ear pressed against his heart—listening, just listening—and he knew that his heart beat for her.

He had never felt so alive.

His hands kept moving, fingers traveling up her neck, lingering on her barcode. His thumbs skimmed her jaw, before he cupped her face in his hands—and leaned his forehead on hers. Her eyes were closed, her breathing uneven—and he reveled in the fact that he was the only one who could do this to her.

Just like she was the only one who could bring him to his knees.

He rubbed his nose against hers—and kissed her forehead. His voice broke when he finally spoke.

“Don’t give up on me Max.”

She was quiet—but Alec heard her answer loud and clear.


	16. Titanium

Chapter 15 – Titanium 

It was the world’s slowest prison break.

The room had no windows—and they were on the third floor. Either they had to go down two flights of stairs (and deal with the many guards)—or they had to go to the roof—and escape that way. It was probably easier to go up—then scale down the side of the building—if Alec had thought to bring rope. As it was, he still had visions of Max pulling that drainpipe out of the wall so that guards below could use them for target practice. And Alec didn’t trust Max near a window or a ledge or a roof. Because even though they had no avian DNA, Max had an awful tendency to jump off tall buildings, trying to fly with her imaginary wings.

So down it was. And Alec knew there were six guards for each floor—but at least they weren’t armed with guns—just batons. And because nothing interesting had happened in the prison for years (rebellion-wise)—Alec knew that the guards were likely not prepared for any security breach. He hoped.

Either way, it wasn’t going to be easy. Max had finally stopped disagreeing with everything he said, and now she was just standing there, waiting for him to lead the way. And even though he knew better, Alec just shook his head, muttering like she wouldn’t hear every word—

“Only you would choose a maximum security prison.”

* * *

“What are you complaining about?” Max looked at him like he’d grown a third eyeball. “This escape was your idea.” 

“It’s better than your idea.” Alec turned the corner, watching the guard advance on him. “You were going out on a slab.”

Max stilled. “You thought that was my play?”

“It wasn’t?” Alec stopped punching the guard in front of him. Absently, he held the guard up by his neck, his feet dangling in the air. He didn’t notice the guard pass out.

Max just shrugged. “I figured I’d wake up in the morgue and sneak out.” She watched Alec drop the guard onto the floor. “But first I would ransack the medical supplies.” She toed the unconscious guard out of her way. “Did you know the prisons have even more drugs than the hospitals?”

Alec paled. “No more drugs for you. No more experiments.” He clutched his chest and pointed his finger at her. “My heart can’t take it.”

She snorted in disbelief. Alec had entirely too many heart conditions. She saw movement behind him. “Watch out.” 

Alec turned and caught a fist in his face. “Goddammit. Why aren’t you helping me?”

“I can go back to my cell, if this is too much trouble.” She actually turned on her heel—but her shirt flared up and over her hips—and he caught sight of some skimpy black lace.

“You are a stubborn woman.” He snarled, suddenly impatient to be alone with Max.

“And you love me anyway.” The words slipped out before she could stop them. Max almost clapped a hand over her mouth. Instead, she just raised an eyebrow, daring him to contradict her, pretending that she didn’t want the reassurance.

“Yes, I do. Goddammit.” He kneed the guard who punched him. Then threw him against the wall, annoyed the guard tagged him.

“Now stop distracting me. I still have another floor of guards to get through. You just stand there looking all—not orange.” Alec waved his hands at her—then jumped back when another guard tried to swipe him with a baton.

“Why didn’t you just pay the guards off?” Max leaned against the wall, enjoying how easily his body moved, avoiding blows—and landing them. It was especially nice because he was shirtless—and his chest was glistening from sweat. She watched the sweat drip down to his abdomen. Muscles rippled with every movement, every punch, every block. Really, she could watch him all day.

“I did. An hour ago. But you were napping.” Alec huffed when he barely avoided a kick to the groin. “The guards changed.”

“So this is all my fault.” Max narrowed her gaze at him. She thought about tripping him, just to even the odds. The guards weren’t much of a challenge. They were too slow and swinging wildly. Even she could anticipate the next hit—and she wasn’t really paying attention. 

“Totally.” Alec kicked the baton out of one guard’s hands. “Hey Max.” He head butted another guard, almost throwing him over the railing. He caught the unconscious guard before he fell. “Why is everyone attacking me and not you?”

Max just smiled with mischief as she leaned forward.

“Maybe they already know I’ll kick their asses if they touch me.”

* * *

Max watched Alec roll out his neck, shrugging his shoulders, joints cracking with every movement. He had finally knocked out the last guard on the first floor. Now he was jumping up and down, shaking his body loose, fists clenching and unclenching—completely immersed in unlocking his tight muscles. So when he spoke, she wasn’t ready for it.

“Ok, so maybe I wasn’t the best boyfriend ever.” He stopped bouncing around, eyeing the main gate instead. “But at least I wasn’t as bad as your ex-boyfriend.” He rolled the guard out of the way. “I mean he was in cahoots with White. That’s terrible right?”

“First.” Max was not going to punch him—not yet. “Logan and I were never like that.” She advanced on him, watching as he searched the guard for keys. “But you and I were like that.”

Alec only raised his arm in triumph when he found the key ring and jogged to the main gate.

“We moved furniture, didn’t we?” Max eyed him, wondering if he was even listening. He was busy swearing as each key failed to open the main gate.

“We even broke furniture.”

* * *

Alec was stunned into silence. He dropped the key ring and turned to Max—and when he spoke, his voice was full of awe and reverence. “We broke _rooms_ Max!”

Then his green eyes lit up with delight. “There are so many cities on the way home. We can stop by each motel and break rooms all over the map!”

Max almost clocked him one. But he wasn’t paying attention. He was dreaming about broken coffee tables and body-sized dents in drywall. He had ideas that would result in scabbed knees (hers or his, it didn’t matter)—and lots of body aches for sure—they ought to hydrate before starting any of this, who knew when they would come up for air—and—

_Was Max talking?_

“We will not be stopping by any motel rooms. We will not be moving furniture—much less breaking any rooms together.” Max did not sound pleased with him. “Do you understand?”

“Aw Max. Why you gotta do me like that?” Reluctantly, Alec picked up the key ring, wondering which ones he’d tried already.

“Oh Alec, I’m not doing you at all.” She only patted his cheek and walked away.

* * *

Alec didn’t know how he managed to find the right key to open the gate. He must have tried each key twice (at least)—then Max had to go and talk about moving furniture—which naturally got him all hot and bothered. And how was he supposed to focus and remember which key he was on? Seriously, all the keys looked the same. So he had to start the process all over again—and when he finally opened the damned gate, all she did was pat his cheek and sashay right by him.

He had to admit though, she sure looked good in his shirt. It hit about mid-thigh on her—and she had legs for days, yes she did. And the way her hips swayed—well, he couldn’t help but smile as he remembered her hips swaying over him, around him—

He threw the key ring over his shoulder and grabbed Max’s hand. 

It was time to bust on out of here.

* * *

When Alec pushed the gate open, Max crossed the threshold without thinking. She had (mostly) agreed to leave the prison—but when she actually stepped foot outside the gate, she froze—confused that she wasn’t back inside—where she was supposed to be.

She felt Alec pull her forward—and she took a few more steps, staring at the ground in front of her. Why was she outside?

When Alec pulled her again, she opened her hand and released him. He wasn’t expecting it, and he stumbled forward in surprise.

She didn’t see him turn around, impatient and confused.

She only knew that she should go back to her cell.

That was the only thing that made sense.

* * *

Alec knew that something was wrong when Max refused to look at him. She was entirely too fascinated with the ground. She even seemed bewildered—which worried him. Because the whole time he fought through how many guards, he’d thought that they were on the same page—that Max was ready to go, that it was time to leave the prison.

And when he’d asked her not to give up on him—there was a moment of panic and grief—when he thought he’d lost her for good. She’d said nothing—but he’d heard her heartbeat quicken, before it slowed down to match his. And he knew the answer.

She did what she always did when they were together. She matched their rhythms, their heartbeats, their breathing. That was Max accepting him and loving him without words. And he knew that Max had not given up on him.

But what he didn’t know then—what he knew now—was totally foreign and unacceptable. The knowledge of it slammed into him, leaving him breathless, unable to move. The shock that ran through his body actually hurt.

The words tumbled out, every syllable stabbing into him.

“You lied to me Max.”

She said nothing to contradict him. She didn’t even look up.

* * *

Max knew that she wasn’t supposed to be outside. She’d been willing to pretend while they were inside the walls. It was easy. Playing and bickering with Alec was second nature. She loved to be near him. It always felt right. Watching Alec fight his way through the guards—his movements so fluid and natural—it was a treat to the senses. He knew how to wreak the most havoc with minimal effort (while avoiding damage to his body).

She’d been so caught up, enjoying the proximity of Alec—that she forgot all the forward momentum. She forgot that they were on their way out of the prison itself. But her little bubble burst when the main gate crashed loudly behind her. The noise was enough to startle her out of her trance.

So she blinked at the gate, wondering why it was behind her—and not in front of her. Automatically, she glanced at the ground, worried that it would be different, that it wouldn’t be the boring gravel she’d been staring at for weeks. And while she spotted some gravel, she also spotted clumps of grass and dirt and even random weeds.

The ground was wrong.

It was not the same ground inside the prison walls.

What was she doing outside?

And why was Alec looking at her like that?

* * *

He took a few steps toward Max, wondering if she would try to sneak back inside. It would not surprise him if he had to break Max out of prison twice in one day.

And because he was still reeling from the revelation from moments ago—he fought hard to control the panic that threatened to send him over the edge. Carefully, he kept the censure out of his voice—the worry—the fear—the alarm.

Because what he knew was this—

Even if Max had not given up on him, she had given up on herself. Maybe she hadn’t planned to go out on a slab—but if for some reason, her blood couldn’t beat out the drugs in her system?

Then she was ok with failing. Not waking up in the morgue after all. Losing that final battle.

It would be the end of Max.

And that was not ok with Alec.

* * *

“Max?” Alec knew he had to be cautious. He didn’t want her running in the wrong direction. “We need to go. The guards will complete their rounds in 10 minutes.”

He didn’t expect a response—but he waited anyway.

“These guys have guns Max.” He took a few steps toward her, reaching for her hand, hoping she wouldn’t reject him now. And she didn’t. But she didn’t seem to notice him either—which might have been worse. “We can’t be caught out here.”

“You should go Alec.” She agreed quietly—still studying the ground in front of her.

“We made promises Max.” Alec tried again. “I’m not leaving without you.” And even though she finally looked up at him, she closed her eyes and shook her head. But she wasn’t quick enough. He saw it. The dark shadow passing through the brown eyes he loved so much. 

“We made promises.” Her voice was low but steady. “But they weren't real.” 

Alec watched the light go out of her eyes.

“Something inside me broke that day. Something important.” She couldn’t stop the desolation from seeping in. “It’s gone.”

Alec knew exactly what day she was talking about. “You got us out. You did nothing wrong.” 

“I did everything wrong. I killed so many.” Max met his gaze without flinching. “I’m really good at it.”

Alec watched powerless as the woman he loved condemned herself.

“I have this darkness inside of me—and I thought I could pretend it away. I thought you loving me would be enough—but I’m a wreck. I shouldn’t be around anyone.” Max pulled her hand out of his. “I should be on death row.”

“I have that same darkness Max.” Alec found it hard to breathe. Everything was on the line now. “I have logged more kills than you. I even enjoyed them. I deserve death more than you.”

He watched Max widen her eyes in protest. He shook his head, automatically stopping her interruption.

“But every time death showed up for me—you were there to stop it. How many times have you come back for me, found me, saved me?” Alec took her hand again, intertwining their fingers, remembering the first time she had saved him.

Just moments before, he’d chosen to betray her, and she was pinned to the ground, the aftershocks from the Taser still coursing through her. All she had done was watch him, first with horror and disbelief—then worse, with disappointment and acceptance, when she realized that he would take her life to save his. And he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t watch her die in front of him. So he had stabbed the knife into the ground instead—knowing that he had doomed himself—that the stupid little bomb at his brainstem would explode soon enough.

And when the scientist made her choose between the cure or his life—he’d never felt more helpless. She had every right to that cure. But she had chosen to save him—and they all watched the little bomb explode outside of his head. As a reward, Max had kicked him out of her life.

No matter how many times he messed up, no matter how many times Max got mad at him—he knew that she would always choose to save him. So maybe it was his turn to save her. And if she didn’t want to be saved, then he still couldn’t leave her—because why would he ever leave her? Every time he tried to leave, he always came back—because at the core of it, he knew, he absolutely knew—

_He was meant to be with Max._

And he felt the fear and panic subside. Even if this was her last stand—he was exactly where he was supposed to be—with Max. He wouldn’t have it any other way. All he had to do was let her know. So he looked at their joined hands—and he let his heart soar free.

“Max.” Alec waited for her to meet his gaze—and he saw Max, loving him and worried for him, afraid to drag him down with her, only wanting him safe.

“You’re all I need.” He leaned his forehead on hers, inhaling her scent, loving the nearness of her. “I can’t even fathom not being with you. Not waking up next to you. Not hearing your voice.” He rubbed his nose against hers. “Not kissing you. Not touching you.” He pulled her close, brushing his mouth against hers, ever so lightly.

“You make me come alive.” He framed her face in his hands, wanting her to know how deeply she was a part of him. “Only you.” And he saw the pain, the uncertainty reflected in those very expressive brown eyes—and he welcomed it all.

“So if you’re done, then I am too.” He felt her entire body tremble in denial—and he welcomed that too.

“Because a world without you in it—makes no sense to me.”

And Alec found a strange peace settle over him. He meant every word. He wrapped his arms around Max, savoring the feel of her body against his.

“I love you Max.”

* * *

Max sank into his embrace, allowing the warmth of his body to soothe her. It was always like this. Alec’s voice possessed that special quality that made her forget everything else. The deep tone, the richness of his timbre was enough to calm her soul. She loved listening to him, even when he drove her crazy, even when he was always interrupting her plans.

She had been totally committed to following through—to seeing if the lethal injection could work its magic—and conquer her after all. And if she managed to beat the drugs into submission, then ok. She could always find another way to test the limits of her body.

But now Alec was in her face and telling her that he was done too.

Goddammit. That was not the plan.

* * *

While he waited for any kind of response, Alec was still a soldier—and he knew the guards would be arriving soon. “Six minutes Max.” He turned his gaze eastward, listening for footfalls.

She said nothing. Instead she dropped her head against his chest and closed her eyes.

“We’re together Max.” Alec kissed the top of her head. “Either we leave together—or we’re staying.”

“You can’t stay here.” Max looked up slowly, frowning at him.

“Then pick somewhere else. It’s just geography. You’re stuck with me.” Alec cupped her face in his hands, dropping his forehead onto hers. “We don’t have to go back to Seattle. We can go anywhere.”

Max remained quiet. He wasn’t sure she heard him—that she understood how very serious the situation was. Like armed guards weren’t about to drop by and put some real bullets into them.

“Two minutes Max.” When she didn’t even blink, Alec finally understood that counting minutes would be useless. He couldn’t rush her—that she would come to a decision—with or without guards interrupting them.

“I can hear them.” She touched his face lovingly. “Thirty seconds Alec. Go now.” 

“We’re not done talking dammit.” She felt that piercing stare of his, the green and gold swirling—and digging into her soul. Then she saw the guards sneak up on Alec, their weapons aiming.

“Hands up!” One of the guards waved his gun at Alec.

Alec didn’t even acknowledge the guy. He only stared at Max. “Are we going to surrender Max? Or are we fighting? Your call.”

Max looked over his shoulder, worried, biting her bottom lip. “Two at your back Alec. And two more coming up behind me. Soon.”

“Are you two lovebirds really ignoring us?” The guards laughed. One guard even poked Alec in the back with the end of his rifle.

Alec raised his hands in surrender. “Easy pal. We’re in the middle of something.”

The guard poked him again. And Alec lost it.

“I said—“ He ducked to avoid the rifle hitting his face. Then he blurred and with one angry punch, he knocked him out. He turned to the other guard, throwing more punches. The poor guy crumpled without protest.

Max was startled out of her misery. She forgot how quick he was. She watched him kick both guards for extra measure before he rolled them out of the way. She saw him crouch down and secure them with zip ties. She saw him rub the back of his neck before he turned to her.

She saw a lot, but she didn’t see him blink at the extra zip ties in surprise.

* * *

When Alec pulled the zip ties out of his pocket, he thought nothing of it. He just didn’t want the guards to wake up and jump him while he was talking to Max. So when he pulled out the ties, he forgot that one zip tie was already curled around something else.

Carefully, he untwisted the zip tie and released the metal rings. Then he turned to Max, knowing it was all or nothing.

“Our promises were real Max.” He caught her gaze—and placed two matching rings in the palm of her hand.

“I found these in a pawn shop.” Alec looked at her with nothing but love and hope. “They are made of titanium. Stronger than steel, but lighter. Lasts forever. Scratches though, so we’ll have to polish them. Take care of them.”

He knew it wasn’t the ideal location—but it didn’t matter anymore. He just needed Max to know that it was forever for him.

“Did you read the inside Max?” Alec picked up the smaller of the rings, held it up to the bright sunlight. “Look.”

“Tuesday always. Max and Alec.” Max whispered, the clarity of Alec’s love etched right into the titanium.

* * *

The last thing she expected was for Alec to drop rings into her hand. She stared at them, mesmerized by the shiny metal. She didn’t see Alec blur away from her—and knock out the two guards approaching her from behind. She didn’t hear him swearing when one of them scored a hit and cuffed his face.

She only noticed that Alec dropped two more limp bodies by the brick wall. He pulled out more zip ties, secured the newest addition of unconscious guards to his collection—and turned to her expectantly.

“Alrighty then.” He winked at her—and rubbed his hands together. “That buys us another 10 minutes before the next set of guards come around.”

* * *

Alec took the smaller of the rings and held it up in front of her. His green eyes shone with joy and love. “This is my forever promise to you. I choose you. You are still mine Max.” And carefully, he slipped the titanium band onto the ring finger of her left hand.

He knew that she wasn’t ready to take that step toward him. So he stepped toward her instead—and pulled her close. “Am I still yours Max?”

* * *

Max forgot to breathe. This was what it was all about. All it was ever about.

She felt the strength in his arms—the warmth of his body—and she knew she was home. She had just confessed her darkness to him—and he only loved her more. 

Slowly she stepped back, and opened her hand, the one still holding his ring. She took his left hand, and gently slid the band over his ring finger. 

“You are mine.” Max stroked her thumb over the ring—before she turned his hand over, and kissed the inside of his palm. “I am yours Alec.”

* * *

“My love has conditions though.” Alec grinned with mischief.

“One. You are officially retired as a mad scientist. No more stealing drugs and mixing up the perfect recipe to knock me out. That’s just wrong. And irresponsible.”

He paused thoughtfully, before adding a clause. “You are free to drug all enemies to your heart’s content though.”

“Two. You are not allowed to run away and disappear. No matter how stupid I get. This is for the safety of all. Apparently I want to kill everyone around me when I can’t find you.”

“Three. You can never dismantle my bike again. I still haven’t recovered from seeing my Duke in little pieces like that.”

* * *

Alec was still listing his conditions. Max stopped listening. She only stared at the band on her finger. 

She looked up in surprise when she heard two bodies fall to the ground. Alec was flexing his fingers from the last punch. She had forgotten about the last two guards patrolling the perimeter.

He wiped the sweat off his brow with his arm. Then he turned toward her, his left hand extended, the matching ring on his finger. His green eyes twinkled with love and laughter—and something else too. The forever promise he made, with the rings that sealed them both.

“Ready Max?”

She finally took that step—and placed her hand in his.

* * *

Alec pulled her close, strong arms cocooning her, protecting her, loving her. Her head was nestled on his shoulder, with one hand resting over his heart. Her arm wrapped around his body, her hand settling at his waist, fingers lingering and just touching.

“Come on.” He kissed the top of her head and nodded toward the pile of guards. “We got some pilfering to do.”

“Pilfering?” Max murmured, not ready to move. She was drawing circles on his bare chest. “Your scars are almost faded.” And she kissed the exact spots where she dug out the rounds. Her hand moved over his abdomen, tracing lines where the knife had slashed him. “These scars are already gone.” She moved her hand off his waist—fingertips traveling slowly upward, from his waistband, up his chest—until she reached his shoulder—and kissed it twice. 

Alec struggled to breathe evenly. He blinked and pointed to a random guard. “This guy busted my lip. He got a lucky shot in.”

Max cupped his face, inspecting his perfect mouth, eyeing the cut. “We must pilfer from him.” She nodded gravely in approval. Then she kissed him lightly on the mouth. “Is that better?”

Alec nodded slowly—then showed her his right hand. “That one almost broke my knuckles. His head was really hard.” He might have pointed to the same guard—he wasn’t really sure. He just didn’t want Max to stop touching him.

Max frowned as she gently took his hand in hers, studying his raw knuckles. “It must really hurt.” Then she blew lightly over his knuckles, before kissing each one. “We should definitely pilfer from him.”

Alec turned his cheek and pointed to it. “Is it bruising yet? That ugly one over there got me.” He blinked a few times, trying to remember if he got that hit inside or outside of the prison walls. Not that it mattered. They were all the same to him.

Max studied his cheek, saw that it was dark pink already. “It looks tender.” She brushed fingers over the slight swelling—before dropping a soft kiss. “Alec, we cannot stand here all day. It’ll take me forever to kiss every wound.”

“That’s the whole point Max.” And Alec nuzzled against her neck. “I thought you were the smart one here?” But instead of getting another kiss from Max, she shoved him away. Startled, he landed on the ground—for the first time today. Now his new pants were messed up for sure.

But when he looked up, it was totally worth it.

Because Max had finally snapped out of whatever stasis she was in—and was engaged in some last minute combat. Two extra guards had shown up behind him—and he hadn’t even heard them.

Her movements were seamless and hypnotic. With a few jabs and a stinging upper cut, the first guard fell. She only stepped over him and jumped on top of the other guard. Which was totally unfair because her shirt was loose, and everyone could see the bits of black lace and smooth skin underneath.

The poor guard had no chance. He was too distracted to react. He staggered under the weight of Max before she drove a right hook into his face. The elbow strike was totally unnecessary. He was already unconscious. Then she calmly pushed him and watched him crumple without a word.

“Huh.” Max tilted her head, studying the newest guards. “Are we pilfering from these guys too?” She turned to Alec, who was sitting in the dirt, legs extended, ankles crossed in front of him, leaning back against his elbows—looking like a sunbathing Adonis.

Alec only whistled in appreciation. “There you go again—kicking ass with no pants.” Then he beamed his contagious smile, his green eyes sparkling with merriment. “We would totally defeat all enemies if you lost your pants for good.”

* * *

Max let her gaze wander over the length of his body, taking in the broad shoulders, the sculpted chest and chiseled abs. And because Max could only take so much, she placed a knee on either side of him, slowly sinking onto him, the very center of her lined up with his. She rested her hands lightly on his shoulders, watching the color of his eyes change from the playful green—to the intense and very exciting gold.

Had it really been a whole month without Alec irritating her, distracting her—and loving her? God, she had missed him. But right now, all she wanted was a kiss—the kind that made her forget her name.

* * *

When she pulled him close, he let his head fall forward, and found his face buried in that wonderful rack of hers. A little bit of sweat mixed in with Max’s natural scent was all kinds of intoxicating. “I missed these.” He nuzzled deeper into her chest. And when she whacked him upside the head, he only smiled, knowing that the world was right again.

He looked at her mouth, the full lips, the tiny mole just above—and he saw her studying his mouth too. He saw her bite her bottom lip—she did that, when she wanted something, but was hesitant—and he was never one to make her wait—especially when he wanted the same thing anyway.

He claimed that very enticing mouth of hers, and kissed her deep. And just like the first time—it was a coming home, a fulfillment, a promise of more love and laughter and life.

* * *

Max sighed, her body still tingling when he broke the kiss. She opened her eyes and found that very penetrating green staring into her soul. She’d thought that it was all over for her. And he knew it. He called her on it. And instead of trying to stop her, he’d offered to join her.

Only he would be dumb enough to do that.

She inhaled the familiar scent of Alec—comforting and electrifying all at once—and she knew what he knew all along. They weren’t done at all. They were only just beginning.

* * *

He stood up without much effort, unwilling to let her go, his arms wound tightly around her. Her legs slid down until she touched the ground—and she stayed there in his arms. She was leaning against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, her left hand resting at the base of his neck—and he knew, she would skim his barcode—something she always did to remind him that she loved him—but this time, he felt the ring on her finger—and it was even better.

Every moment of uncertainty and danger and pain faded into nothing. The clarity of it all was staggering—and so simple too.

Together—their love was strong and true. It was enough. It was so much more.


	17. Stars

Chapter 16 – Stars 

Max looked at the ring on her finger—and she knew, she had just one more thing to do. It was something she didn’t think she’d ever have to confront. 

Carefully, she untangled herself from Alec, her hands lingering on his face, thumbs sweeping his cheekbones, fingers caressing the back of his neck. He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch, his breath slowing down, and his heartbeat too. She took in his raw beauty, the thick lashes hiding the green and gold, the scattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks, the mouth that gave such pleasure or annoyed her beyond distraction.

She looked over his shoulder, saw the guards still napping, the main gate closed, the brick walls that used to be her cage—and now all Max saw was a turning point—a divergence—and a goodbye. She put herself into this neat little box—and she didn’t fit anymore.

It was time to walk away. It was time to start again.

* * *

Alec felt the sudden quiet in Max. He was so in tune with her, he understood that she needed a moment to reflect—to realize that this pit stop on death row was over—that even though she might have meant it as a final destination—that it was time to let go.

He waited for her, enjoying her silence, her touch, her closeness. She would let him know when she was it was time.

* * *

It was rare for Alec to be without words. But when he was, he always went somewhere deep. Sometimes he brought her along—and sometimes he left her behind.

Right now, he was content to wait for her—to decide the next step. He would stay here—and probably wait for the next round of guards, if that’s what she wanted. She was pretty sure they had gone through all the guards though. And as much as she enjoyed fighting, she also wanted something else.

Time alone with Alec.

* * *

He felt it—the moment she let go. The moment she allowed herself to think of a future. The moment she welcomed him back into her life.

She placed a soft kiss on his mouth, pouring all of her love into him. And she whispered the words, once again, her voice catching—

“It’s Tuesday Alec. I love you.”

* * *

It was hard to breathe. It was like the last little piece of his broken heart came back. Max was his again. And even though she had taken his hand and accepted his ring—even though she had beat up some guards and kissed his wounds—even though he felt her love blanket him and soothe him—

He still needed the words.

Her words were always a gift to him. Whether she was yelling them or whispering them—it was a part of her soul she let out into the world. And when she had disappeared on him, she had taken her voice—she had taken her words—and she had taken the light to his soul.

So this, right now—was an unexpected gift—Max offering her love, sharing words he’d never thought she’d say again.

Because he knew, he’d destroyed her just weeks ago, throwing those words back at her, lashing out—punishing her—and she had picked up a gun she never would have touched. She got everyone out—and broke herself in the process.

He never wanted that to happen again.

* * *

Alec said nothing—he only wrapped his arms around her, surrounding her with his warmth. He’d heard her. His heartbeat had quickened—then slowed. His entire body had shuddered against hers—before he buried his face into her neck—and stilled.

For all his jokes, for all his easy quips—Max knew that Alec was a serious man. He heard everything she said—and everything she didn’t say.

When he was ready, he would come back to her.

* * *

Alec didn’t know how to come out of the silence. Instead, he held onto her, listening to her breathe—and when he heard her voice, she took away the last bit of doubt even he didn’t know about.

“Hey.” He felt Max run her fingers through his hair. “You found me. You fought the guards. You got me out.” He felt her rub her cheek on him, back and forth, offering comfort. “You don’t have to say anything.”

Slowly she coaxed his head up, rubbing his nose with hers, before lightly kissing his mouth. “Look at me.” And she waited for his gaze to meet hers. 

“You did everything right that day. I wanted you to leave.” Max breathed out more words he never thought she’d say. “I wanted you safe.”

Then she linked their hands together—before she leaned against him, her ear pressed against his chest, against his heart, just listening, just waiting for him.

Goddammit. The woman was reading his mind again.

* * *

Max saw a flash of pain in his green eyes—before he closed them and claimed her mouth. She felt his love—and his worry—and his anguish—everything hitting her all at once. She breathed it all in—embracing the complexities of Alec—and she waited for him to open his eyes.

When he did, his eyes had turned into the beautiful gold color—his intensity so deep, even he wasn’t aware of it. But she saw. She saw him.

Then—when she thought he would say something serious, something heartfelt—the color swirled into a peaceful hazel, the green and gold mixing—before settling into the playful green she loved so much.

Oh, his voice was very serious—but his words—only Alec would come up with his special combination of love and insanity. She kept a smile to herself. He really was a unique creature unlike any other. She wouldn’t have it any other way.

* * *

Alec felt her words reach deep into his soul—and heal him. And even though she asked for nothing—he gave her some words too. Just not the ones she might have expected.

Because why would he ever do something so boring?

* * *

“We can’t tell the kids you proposed in front of a prison.” Alec’s voice was somber. “It’s a terrible story.”

He watched Max blink in confusion. As if she didn’t know they would have kids together? Eventually anyway. Probably he should marry her first though. Then she’d be legally bound not to drive him crazy.

“I’ll tell them you proposed on the Golden Gate Bridge.” Alec tugged her toward the woods. “We need to go to San Francisco to make the story true. Did I tell you, I found this old map? Every time we break a room in a new city, we’ll put a gold star on it.” He didn’t even flinch when Max smacked him. He really did have gold stars. But he only winked, his green eyes sparkling with mischief and joy. “Let’s go. But first we put a star for Texas ok?”

And when Max started undoing her buttons, Alec finally sputtered to stop—before he shook his head, hastily redoing the buttons. “Oh no you temptress. We’ll find an appropriately sleazy motel.”

Then Alec smirked when he saw Max carefully backing away from him. She had an odd look on her face though. And she was too quiet. When she smiled ever so sweetly, he knew that Max was about to defy him.

“Only if you catch me pretty boy.” She all but purred at him. Then she had the audacity to flip her hair and blow him a kiss.

Before he could say anything, her white shirt landed on his face, obscuring his vision. He felt the air shift—and knew that she was already blurring away from him.

All thoughts of pilfering and motels evaporated.

Instead Alec stood motionless, watching her progress, knowing he would catch her. And if she kept going in that direction, she would run into that perfect little patch of secluded meadow he’d scouted hours ago.

Life was good. Because he knew a shortcut to that meadow.

* * *

Max practically tripped on Alec, she was going so fast. All she knew was that her bike was hidden about 10 yards away from the pretty meadow. And while he had promised (really, lied) about the clothes, she knew that she had an extra set of clothes in her own backpack. Because what did boys know about clothes? Except to take them off anyway.

He was so still, she didn’t even notice him prone, directly in her path. But at the last moment, she realized the odd-shaped log was really Alec—and before she stepped on his face, she leapt over him, forcing her entire body to crash into the tree just three yards away from his head.

She landed in a messy heap, breathing hard, seeing stars. She blinked a few times, trying to get her vision back to normal, willing the stars away.

“Hey Maxie. You took so long, I had time for a nap.” Alec didn’t even open his eyes.

Slowly, she turned her gaze to him, taking in his very relaxed sprawl all over the grass—and before she could even complain—she realized that she was seeing stars. Gold stars actually.

“Was a giant bird chasing you? Is that why you hit that tree?” He finally opened his eyes, green and gold twinkling with mirth. 

But Max was speechless. All she did was open and close her mouth—before she finally pointed a finger at him.

“Are you, I mean—is that, is that—“ she sputtered helplessly. “How did—“ And she waved her hands all over his body, before she finally choked out the words.

“Do you have gold stars on your body?”

* * *

Well now, of course he had gold stars on his body. Alec liked to be prepared. Good thing his bike was parked so close to the meadow. He had checked his backpack, searching for her clothes, even though he knew he hadn’t packed her any.

Sometimes he surprised himself though, finding extra things he hadn’t known was in there. And while he found her panties in the outside pocket (he wasn’t going to tell her that), he also found something else.

A crumpled set of gold foil stickers. He’d found them in the pawn shop, on the counter, just before he’d paid for the titanium rings. And he remembered Mole, unsympathetic and impatient, muttering about squirrels and gold stars—when he’d been drowning in notebooks. It was like the stickers cast a spell—because all Alec could see was Mole’s face, when he saw—

_Tiny, shiny gold stars all over his favorite rifle._

It would annoy the hell out of Mole—and it would entertain Alec to no end—because he knew (from experience) it was a total bitch to remove stickers from any gun. So he had purchased the stickers—and shoved them into his backpack. And when he found them (instead of Max’s jeans), he’d been pleasantly surprised. Maybe Max would forget all about her missing clothes if he provided a good enough distraction.

And this turned out to be a most excellent distraction indeed.

Because Max was looking at him all flustered—while biting her bottom lip. She couldn’t take her eyes off him.

Probably because he was so damn artistic.

* * *

He had placed gold stars in a straight line—from his sternum to his belly button. And 45 degrees from the end of that line, he placed more stickers, about half as many, evenly spaced (of course)—on both sides.

Max could not stop staring. Because he had created a giant sparkly arrow pointing to his rather impressive—

“What happened to your pants Alec?” She managed to gasp, realizing that he was wearing even less than she was.

“I was going so fast, they just fell off.” And he sounded blissful.

She blinked a few times, trying to collect her thoughts, and failing miserably—instead admiring his rather spectacular salute to her.

“Seriously Max. Do you need instructions? I already made a huge arrow for you. I need some lovin’.” He reached out his hand, the titanium band winking mischief at her.

“Do we have any gold stars left for the map?” She breathed, powerless against the magic of Alec, automatically taking his hand, letting him yank her across his shiny, gold covered body.

“We have three more sheets.” He nuzzled her shoulder, leaving little kisses from the base of her neck to her chin. “You talk too much.”

And when he looked at her with such patience, Max stopped thinking so hard—and let Alec’s love consume her. He went through so much trouble with the little gold stickers after all.

Only he could love her so completely—and with such joyous foolishness too.

She loved him madly, deeply—and without reserve. Gold stars or not.

* * *

When Max finally stopped talking, Alec smiled. He did catch her after all—even though she almost crushed his skull. He didn’t feel bad about her hitting that tree either. Loving Max was a lot of work.

But so worth it. He deserved every gold star on his body—and then some.

 


End file.
